A song of survival
by Ladyofwinter361
Summary: This is a story of Sansa Stark. It is my interruption of what could have been between her and Ramsay. It will start at the purple wedding with lots of twists that didn't happen, or happened differently in the show. I thought the storyline between Samsa and the Bolton bastard could have turned out much different.
1. A bittersweet pill

Sansa studied herself in the mirror as her handmaidens laced up her dress. It was a lovely amethyst color, the same as the necklace Lord Baelish gifted her the day before. A lovely necklace for a lovely girl. She remembered the words he spoke to her as he fastened it around her neck. She knew she looked beautiful. Just as a lady should. You couldn't see the bruises and scars that were hidden under the extravagant dress she wore. The king had continually gifted her with these marks, be it with his own hands or one of his men's.

She was broken in a way she never imagined possible, she was supposed to be a wolf…she felt more like a stray dog. Beaten and cast aside, only noticed when Joffery decided she needed reminding of who she belonged to. Sansa was his toy. A toy he happily abused, the way he got pleasure out of finding new ways to make her miserable was rather astonishing to Sansa. You'd think he would bore of his antics eventually. He did have a kingdom to rule after all.

"Leave us," she shuttered at the sound of his voice. Joffery. "Lady Stark…oh, forgive me…I mean Lannister. You look ravishing." He said as he walked up to her and the ladies in the room scurried out. "What a shame my imp uncle hasn't made a proper woman of you yet. Well, a shame for him. I am a mightier lion and a stag, I supposed the task is up to me" He sneered at her as he caressed her back. She was silent and still. Even her breathing was scarce, afraid to move, to face the reality that was looming behind her. Taking notice and becoming enraged at the thought of being ignored he grasped her hair in his hand and violently swung her around. "Did you not hear your king pay you a compliment? Need I show you how I feel about being disrespected?"

Sansa put on her smile, she had become accustomed to being able to turn on the charm when needed. "Your Grace, forgive me." She spoke sweetly and touched his arm. "I hate to admit your presence still makes me nervous…." The words felt like fire in her throat. She loathed having to please him and wished she could take off his head instead. "I wasn't expecting you to visit me, I feared you would be so very busy preparing for your wedding."

This calmed the inbred king and he put his hands on her hips, pulling her close to him. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "I am very sorry I haven't visited you in your chambers yet. My uncle will be plenty drunk with the celebrations today… after my queen pleasures me I will visit you…will you like that?"

"If it pleases you my Grace, it will please me." She spoke so softly the words were barely audible. His hot breath on her neck sent chills down her spine.

He kissed her on the neck before grabbing her throat, catching her off guard. "I take what is owed to me. You are owed to me stupid girl." He spoke sternly and finally after what felt like ages he let go of her. Joffery smiled, feeling as if he'd won this battle with the red wolf. More like a sheepdog, he thought, MY sheepdog. "I look forward to sharing your company tonight, I've waited far too long. I will not wait another day, you are mine. Remember that wolf" Joffery spoke up breaking the silence that laid between them. He kissed her harshly on the lips before he turned and left her chambers. It felt like venom on her mouth and she vigorously wiped it away.

Shae walked in quietly and saw Sansa sitting on the bed, looking like she may faint. "Tyrion called for you my lady," she said as she lifted Sansa's face to look at hers "Joffery will be married today. Margery will keep him well occupied, he will forget about you."

Sansa smiled at Shae, more of a pity look than an actual sign of gratitude for Shae's words. "Joffery will torment me till the end of his days…or mine. Margery or not, I have no doubts about that." She stood and checked her appearance once more before walking towards the door "Shall we?" she asked, but didn't wait for a reply.

Tyrion was down the hall and he smiled as he saw his wife making her way towards him. She took his arm and smiled back. She was not in love with her husband but she appreciated his kindness. He never raised his hand to her and he never forced himself on her. It was more than she could have expected from the king. "Well, this should be a much joyous occasion, my dear" he spoke as they made their way to the ceremony. "Joffery and Margery, a tale for the ages." He snickered quietly and Sansa glanced at him but didn't speak. Let's just get this over with…. She thought rolling her eyes.

During the ceremony Sansa couldn't concentrate on the act in front of her and instead her mind was wondering to the fact that at one point, not all that long ago, this was what she had wanted. This was all she wanted.

She felt a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, thinking back to all the events that led her to where she was today. How could I have been so foolish? A stupid, stupid girl… She wished she could go back to the day they left Winterfell and never leave. She missed her home, which was the strangest feeling of all. All her childhood, she had wanted to leave. Now, she would do anything to go back. To have her family back, that was an impossible dream though. This was her life now. The life she dreamed of was now her living nightmare.

The celebration was anything but. Sansa felt disgusted by the scene she witnessed as entertainment. Seeing dwarfs impersonate her family was a sting she couldn't shake. Joffery was truly the most grotesque human she had ever encountered. Calling him human is too much of a compliment she thought looking away from the spectacle that lay in front of her.

Tyrion had taken his seat next to her again. Just then Lady Olenna stopped by and greeted the couple "Lady Sansa, what a beauty you are my dear." She touched her cheek, and then her hand went to the necklace adorned on Sansa's neck. "This husband of yours should get you out of this horrid place and take you to High Garden, its breathtaking. Just like you" she smiled as she made her way down the table to greet the rest of the party.

Sansa couldn't decide if the Tyrells were to be trusted or not. She liked them, she knew better to trust anyone in King's Landing though. Lady Olenna was definitely one of a kind, and Margery was always sweet to Sansa.. Although Sansa suspected it was for her own personal gain. No matter to her anyways, Margery marrying Joffery was a gods sent. Even if it left her with The Imp. Anyone would look like a blessing next to Joffery. The day that horrid monster took her father's head she realized fairy tales weren't true. There was no prince charming that would save her. She had to save herself. She just didn't know if she was strong enough to do just that.

Joffery had just been served the pigeon pie, he and his new bride were sharing a piece when Margery kissed her new husband. "The most delicious pie on the most delicious day" Margery whispered in his ear as she picked up his goblet and put it to her lips. Margery looked radiant and was simply glowing in her golden dress. The plunging neckline was different from what one may expect, but no one complained. No one, except Cersei of course.

"My son just married a whore. She is going to walk all over all of us manipulating my boy. Your king. This is a horrid match, father. You will see it. Everyone will see it and it will be too late." Cersei spat her words at Tywin. She had just about enough of this tart from High Garden. Power hungry miscreant. She would be the downfall of their family, Cersei was sure of it.

Margery led Joffery to their seats, but before she made it into hers, a strange look came upon her face. She paused and touched her throat just before she started coughing and gasping. Reaching for her chair, she fell over and Joffery shouted for help. Lady Olenna rushed to her side. Sansa slowly realized what was happening and went to reach out to her husband, but he was no longer next to her.

Sansa sat frozen in all the commotion. This was not like anything she had seen before, and she felt like since her days of leaving Winterfell she had seen quite a lot. Margery was turning a horrid shade and foam was coming out of her mouth. Margery had been the closest thing to a friend Sansa had in her time at the capitol and seeing her flopping on the ground surrounded by everyone of importance but no one being able to stop the inevitable seemed unreal to the Stark girl. Was this really happening?

Everything seems to be moving in slow motion and lightning speed all at once to Sansa. Margery lay on the ground surrounded by Lady Olenna, Joffery, and the king's guard. Although, everyone was trying to help the queen, all efforts seemed futile from where Sansa was sitting. She glanced over to her husband who she spotted trying to comfort his sister. They was standing with Jamie. Both of the men looked appalled at the scene laying out in front of them. Cersei seemed more disgusted by the look of Margery's face as she gasped for air than feeling any kind of actual emotion for the situation. This was not a shocking revelation to Sansa, Cersei cared greatly for her children, her allegiance with their partners was another story entirely.

Just then Sansa felt a tug on her arm. It was Dontos Hollard. "My lady, if your life is precious to you, follow me now. We must leave" Sansa froze, but only for a moment. She remembered when the Hound offered to take her away from King's Landing. Oh how she wished she had fled with him. It didn't take her long to realize this was probably her last chance. She glanced around the Courtyard at all the commotion and realized no one would even know she was gone. She quickly stood and took the man's hand who she once saved from Joffery's wrath. The debt was being repaid ten-fold she thought…as long as they actually got away.

Sansa and Dontos made their way out of the castle with no resistance and headed away from the red keep. Most of the guards were tending to the wedding, and the rest were drunk, thinking they had gotten out of their duties for the time being. Sansa let out a sigh of relief once they reached a carriage that was waiting for them. Who was getting her away from these monsters?

Just as she feared this was an elaborate roost and she was about to be killed or kidnapped, at this point she wasn't sure which was worse, Petyr Baelish appeared and whisked her into the cabin stowing her away from plain sight. "You're save now love" he said embracing her "I'm taking you where they can't hurt you anymore"

Sansa was greatful for Lord Baelish in that moment, she didn't ask where she was headed…as long as it was far away from the Lannister's she didn't care at this moment. Sansa turned as she heard a man cry out in agony. She peaked her head out the window and looked in horror as a guard from the vale had a bow in his hands, Sansa realized it was just used to end Dontos' life.

She sprung up from her seat, about to make her way over to the guard, not sure what she was expecting herself to do when she reached him, but Petyr grabbed her arm in protest and swung her around to face him before she had moved 2 paces. "He was a liability. If Cersei finds out I took you with me after the death of the king, she'll have both our heads"

"The king…?" Sansa spoke slowly. "The king is very much alive. When I left he was trying to save Margery…" Both of them were white as a ghost for very different reasons. Sansa realized Margery was dead because of her. Petyr saved her, but at the cost of another's life. A stabbing feeling of guilt entered her stomach.

"The queen was given the poison…. Well this definitely makes things more….complicated than I anticipated." Petyr spoke slowly and carefully with his words. "No matter, Joffery is a coward king. Where you are headed he won't ever be able to touch you again."

"And where exactly is that, Lord Baelish?" Sansa asked as she sat back down. She felt the motion of their journey begin and realized she could be going anywhere. She wondered if she would ever feel in control of her own life. She was no longer Joffery's play thing to torture and abuse as he saw fit. She was thankful, but not foolish enough to think she was out of the woods.

Petyr touched her shoulder than caressed her cheek before answering her question. "Home Sansa. I'm taking you home."


	2. You can't go home

HOME. The word seemed so foreign to Sansa now. As far as she was concerned there was no home for her. Roose Bolton had control of Winterfell. She had heard all about the horrid things he did. The traitor. Lord Baelish couldn't possibly be taking her there…could he?

"I have no home." She spoke sternly. The words rolled off her tongue easier than she thought they would.

"My dear," Petyr spoke softly but with great emphasis on his words "You are Sansa Stark of Winterfell. The eldest surviving child of Eddard and Catelyn Stark. Winterfell is your home. Your birthright."

Sansa looked horrified at him and her voice shook as she spoke. "Roose Bolton murdered my brother. Stuck a dagger in his heart. Betrayed my family for the Lannisters! The very people who have kept me like a chained animal since they killed my father. I will not go and swear loyalty to that horrific man. I will not be a prisoner aga-"

"You're right," Petyr cut her off right there. Looking her straight in the eyes, making sure she understood the importance of his words. "You have been a bystander to tragedy since the day they executed your father. You have been barely surviving. Trying to outrun all your demons that haunt you through the night. Terrible things have happened to your family and you weep for them, stop letting everyone dictate your life. Take it back. You love your family, avenge them."

Sansa studied his face. She truly couldn't tell if he was an ally or a foe. "how do you suppose I do that?"

Petyr didn't need to look at her to see the horrified look on her face as he spoke his next words. "Ramsay Bolton. Marry the Bolton boy. He will make wint-"

Sansa was sure he had lost his mind. "Marry a Bolton? No! I won't do it, I'll throw myself from the broken tower, I'll starve….I won't marry him, you can't force me!" Tears became pooling in her eyes, she didn't dare let them fall though.

"I care for you so much sweet girl, I wont force you to do anything you don't want to." He grabbed her shoulders so she had to face him "Winterfell is your home, take it back. Marry this boy, Stannis will march on Winterfell and grant it to you. You are the last Stark. Play the game Sansa. The great game."

Sansa pondered his words, Stannis always cared for her family, Ned had sworn loyalty to him….maybe this could work. Maybe. "But… what if you're wrong? What if the Boltons defeat Stannis? What happens to me then?" She was unsure if she wanted to hear the answer to her question. She had heard about the Bolton Bastard. King Joffery had told her about him during one of their special visits. He told her he legitimized the bastard as reward for Roose murdering her brother. He swept her feet from under herself with the stem of his sword before he kicked her in the stomach. "Your traitor brother should have been flayed alive, that's how Ramsay would have handled the ordeal. I hear he is quite the hunter. Maybe I'll send him after your bastard brother up at Castle Black." The memory came flooding back tying her stomach in knots.

"If Stannis falls, you make this boy yours. You are a spitting image of your mother, in looks and your kind heart. I fell for her as a boy, as did your father…many others as well. She was easy to love. A vision with that red Tully hair…" he trailed off for a moment looking past Sansa. She knew Petyr had always wanted her mother for himself and she wasn't naïve enough to not realize the hatred he had for her father for the mere fact that Ned got what he thought should be his. "Ramsay Bolton is no different than any other man. Make him yours. Winterfell will be yours as well."

Sansa was quiet in that moment. Make him yours. The words rung in her head like a bell she couldn't silence. Could she do that? She saw the way Margery manipulated Joffery, it came easy to her…Sansa didn't know if she possessed the same power. Only one way to find out, I suppose. She thought to herself before she spoke again.

"Shall we get on with it then? Take me home Lord Baelish." She lifted her chin and took in a deep breath. Petyr was right Winterfell was hers. It belonged to the Starks, she would get it back for her family…or die trying.

"Open the gates!" she heard the rumble of the voice outside the carriage and was instantly flooded with emotion. Too many emotions to actually process. She dared not to peak out, afraid of her feelings getting the best of her. She was home again and that felt glorious, but the thought of coming face to face with the monsters who took away her family and having to be courteous to them felt like a betrayal to her kin. You can do this. You will do this. You are a wolf not a coward. She felt the carriage come to a stop and Petyr patted her leg before he exited. She heard Roose Bolton's voice welcoming Lord Baelish but couldn't quite make out the conversation. She took a deep breath and then strode out of the carriage with her head held high. She was ready, ready as she would ever be.

"Ah, here she is. Lovely as I told you," Petyr spoke turning to help Sansa step onto the grounds of Winterfell. It was a bittersweet moment. She was home but not how she ever imagined. "Isn't that right Lord Bolton?"

Roose studied her for quite some time, she was indeed a sight. Tall and slender with flowing red hair she had in a loose braid falling over one of her shoulders. The exact opposite of his plump plain wife Walda Frey. His son was definitely making out like a bandit in this deal. "Lady Sansa, welcome!" he finally spoke up after much too long of lingering over her body. She had most certainly grown into her own. He didn't wait for her to respond, her words were meaningless to him. He didn't care to wait to see if his welcoming was paid back with the same respect. "Let me introduce my son and heir, Ramsay Bolton."

Sansa curtseyed and looked up to see her betrothed for the first time. Sansa hated to admit it, even just to herself, but he was rather handsome. With shaggy brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He smiled at her, a boyish grin looking pleased and she noticed a wicked look appear on his face. He was intimidating, looking rather strong. Like a warrior, the complete opposite from her last husband, or the king for that matter. He strode up to her and took her hand, laying a kiss on it.

"It is my honor to be in your presence Lady Sansa" he spoke holding onto her hand just a little too long. "Father," he said loudly as he turned his attention away from her. "May I show Lady Sansa to her chambers, well her chambers until our wedding day?" he had a mischievous look upon his face as he waited for his father's answer.

"Yes, yes. It's rather cold out here." Roose answered waving them away with his hand. Petyr nodded at Sansa "I need to share some words with Lord Baelish anyways." Ramsay put out his arm and Sansa reluctantly took it, smiling at her husband to be. She would make the best of this, she was determined.

They walked most of the way in silence, Ramsay seemed to find Sansa's obvious nervousness rather humorous. He smirked as they came upon the room. Her old room. "Some of the northerners told me this was your chamber before….well before you left." He spoke softly, almost reading her mind. "I thought you would be comfortable here milady. I have to say I was rather pleased when you stepped out of that carriage. I was expecting…." He paused as he ran his hands up her side, letting them rest on her hips as he looked over her body, she was sure he would pounce on her at any moment. The look of lust in his eyes was almost too much for Sansa to handle. She was cursing herself for the shaking she felt all over her body from his touch. He smiled, enjoying the reaction he was receiving from her. "Well, lets just say I wasn't expecting you." Ramsay finished his thought as he opened the door, leaning into her to do so. "I'll fetch you for supper." He spoke quickly and disappeared before Sansa had even walked through the doorway.

Her room felt nothing like it had before she left Winterfell, it looked the same but felt so strange. Her thoughts were interrupted by an elderly hand maiden who had come in her room. "I'm to draw you a bath my lady, Lord Bolton said to make sure you were fresh from your travels before you met them in the dining hall" Sansa just nodded at her as she sat on the bed, waiting for the bath to be ready. Her muscles were sore from the trip, a bath would feel lovely. The hand maiden curtseyed and looked up at Sansa smiling. "Welcome home Lady Stark. The north remembers" she spoke so softly Sansa barely heard it, but she did hear it. Sansa looked up to acknowledge the woman, but she had already exited the room.

Sansa disrobed and stepped into the bath, it felt wonderful on her aching body. She had just begun washing herself when she heard the door open again. Ramsay walked through, looking pleased at the sight before him. Sansa tried to cover herself the best she could. "Lord Bolton, I'm not decent!" she spoke up but this didn't deter Ramsay at all.

"You look plenty decent to me darling, please call me Ramsay. We are to be wed after all.." he came to sit at the edge of the tub leering at her naked body. He continued on, ignoring how uncomfortable the girl was, "My father tells me you are still a virgin, is this true?"

Sansa was paralyzed by his words. Was he seriously asking her this? While she sit in a bath… he was blunt that's for sure, but was he as monstrous as she had been told?

"Need I ask again…I hate having to ask a second time Sansa." The way he spoke her name made Sansa shiver, but she finally spoke up.

"Yes Lor- Ramsay.. yes, I'm a virgin. Anything else I can help you with, or may I return to my bath alone." Ramsay completely ignored her request of him to leave again.

"But….why are you a virgin? You are rather beautiful, scared of dwarfs are we?" Sansa actually snorted at this statement than realized how that must have looked to Ramsay. He was dipping his hand in the water, not even looking at her when she answered

"Lord Tyrion was kind to me, much kinder than the king. He never touched me." She answered looking up at him in the eyes for the first time since he entered the room. Ramsay studied her face, she is much more fiesty than I thought she would be. He smiled to himself, I wonder how far I can push this?

"The king, oh yes… He never lay with you?" Sansa couldn't believe the conversation they were having, had this man have no decency?

"No." she spat the words at him "The king never lay with me. Are you satisfied now?" Just then a smiled appeared on Ramsay's face, he was grinning from ear to ear.

He leaned close to her and spoke in just a whisper as if the room was full of people and this was just meant for them. "I'm as satisfied as can be expected, I'm sure I'll be completely fulfilled on our wedding night, my dear."

Sansa was shocked by his demeanor, but thankful as he stood up, presumably to leave her alone for the time being. Instead he sat on the bed. "Now, lets get on with it little wolf." He said motioning for her to get out of the tub. "We don't want to keep my father waiting. They are expecting us at dinner." Sansa rose from the water. This was the first time her whole body had ever been on display in front of a man. She grabbed the cloth and stepped out from the tub, standing with her back towards him. "Now, now…come here , let me help you dry yourself off." He took the towel from her as she turned around to protest cutting her off before she even spoke. "You are a great beauty. You'll bear me glorious children I am sure of it. Well, with Stark and Bolton blood, they are sure to be unstoppable" he spoke as he dried off her body paying close attention between her legs. She felt her body tingle from his touch, ever so slightly grazing her thigh. Ramsay was quite pleased with the affect he could tell he was having on his soon to be bride. He had half a mind to take her right then and there but forced himself to behave. His father's words ringing in his ear. If something went astray before the wedding that would be a nail in Ramsay's coffin.

Sansa felt like her entire body was on fire from his touch. She still wasn't sure if she loved it, or despised it. He studied her body as he ran his fingers up and down jer flat stomach making Sansa's skin feel as if it were being engulfed by wildfire. he finally pushed her away. "You better put something on my little wolf, I'm trying to be a gentleman here." He said mockingly at her.

She grabbed a dress that had been laid out from her wardrobe but quickly realized she needed help with the corset. She fumbled for a moment unsure of how to approach the situation when Lord Baelish's words repeated in her head make him yours.

"Ramsay," she smiled at him, looking over her shoulder. "I can't lace this up alone…since I'm assuming the hand maidens won't make an appearance with you here…. Could you..?" she turned her back to him without waiting for an answer.

Ramsay gladly glided over to her and ran his fingers gently over her back, toying with her. She felt the tingling come over her body again before it was interrupted with a horrible stinging feeling. Ramsay dug his nails into her back harshly, leaving his mark on her as he leaned over and whispered in her ear. "The king has nothing on me dear, don't be foolish enough to find out for yourself." He started to lace up her dress and she winced at how tight he was strapping her into the garment. She dared not speak, her mind wondering to Ramsay's words. He spun her around and smiled as he saw the tears stinging her eyes. He wiped the one that fell onto her face. "Shhhh…there there." He spoke to her as if she were a child "I won't hurt you, I promise that. Just know that you need to hold up your part of the bargain as well love." He spoke softly as he lifted her chin to look at him.

She looked into his steel blue eyes that seemed much colder now and turned on that charm. "It is my honor my lord." She smiled at him. Play the game. Be a wolf.

"Ramsay." He spoke huskily as he corrected her and she felt his breath on her face.

Before she could get his name out he planted a deep kiss on her lips, taking her hair into his hand and grazing his other one onto her backside. She didn't kiss back, she was not going to give him the satisfaction of giving in. Even if her body was betraying her and she wanted to badly. Before she could let her body take control, he bit down on her lip and she tasted blood. In a moment, she pushed him off of her and slapped the boy across the face. She was sure he would strike her for the action, but to her shock, he smiled at this rubbing the sting that was spreading across his face. "So, you are a wolf. It's good to know Lady Stark. I was getting worried you would bore me."

"Sansa. Call me Sansa." She spoke strongly and didn't bother looking behind her as she walked towards the door to exit the room. "Let's not keep your father waiting Ramsay, I'm famished."

She heard his footsteps follow suit but didn't look back. Mostly out if fear that he would see the look on her face and be able to tell she was a fraud. She was scared of Ramsay's mood swings and she had only witnessed a few moments of him. She would die before he realized that though. She stopped at the entryway to the great dining hall and when he caught up she reached out and took his hand. "This is my home Ramsay. I want it back, you want power. Don't make this hard on us both." If she could pacify him until Stannis reached Winterfell, she would be free. Hopefully.


	3. Where the wind blows

Roose, Walda, and Petyr rose from their seats as Sansa and Ramsay entered the dining room. Sansa didn't even want to look at Lord Bolton's wife. The Frey's were disgusting traitors and the thought of having to share her home with one made her ill.

"You've finally joined us, I was getting worried you all but forgotten about dinner." Roose spoke up, looking at Ramsay with a threatening gaze, almost daring him to make the wrong move. They all took their seats and Sansa looked over at Petyr.

"Lord Baelish, how are you enjoying Winterfell, I know it's much different from King's Landing. Much colder." Sansa glanced around at the company she kept while she spoke.

"I'm afraid my southern blood isn't cut out for it, my lady. Tomorrow, I am riding to the Vale, your aunt Lyza has requested my assistance with a matter, then I am back to King's Landing. I need to be there when word reaches the Lannisters about your whereabouts. It's always better to be a step ahead my sweet girl." Petyr answered her in the exact opposite way he knew she was looking for.

Sansa tried to keep a smile on her face, but it was painted with fear instead. Ramsay grinned as he looked at his bride. She was fearful of being left with him as she should be. HE placed his hand on her thigh and squeezed more tightly than necessary Sansa could almost feel the bruising coming onto her skin. She did not wince, instead she placed her hand on top of his, but he instantly pulled it back. Sansa smiled, thinking she had gotten the best of him for the moment. She was sure her touch was making him uncomfortable, but studying his face told a different story.

She noticed his eyes were fixed on the servant girl who just walked in. She looked young and quite plain, Sansa thought. The way the two were exchanging glances though, she knew there was something between them. Sansa took that moment to see how her new found relationship with the young Bolton affected this girl. "Pour me some wine, please." She looked up at the girl breaking the eye contact she was sharing with Sansa's fiancé. Sansa rested her hand on Ramsay's shoulder, gently rubbing the back of his neck as she never broke eye contact with the servant girl.

Petyr smiled at the scene, knowing Sansa had taken his advice and was beginning to see the benefits of playing the game. Sansa figured Ramsay would protest to her touch, at the very least be act impartial to it, that emotion seemed to only come from this mysterious young thing though.

Ramsay was eating up the attention and began to stroke her leg. "This is Myranda, the kennel master's daughter. She has been with our family for a long time now." He offered up an explanation for the girl, although Sansa knew that wasn't the full story.

"I'm sure she has." Sansa retorted, pulling her hand away and sipping on the wine that was just poured for her. Walda and Roose looked at the scene but didn't speak. Walda's eyes looked to pop out of her head any moment, her husband looked rather bored on the other hand.

Myranda stood behind them, almost frozen. This was the girl he was to wed?! She tried to convince herself the Stark girl was no threat to her, but she was undoubtedly pretty and seeing Ramsay's hands on her made Myranda see red. She imagined slamming the pretty girl's face onto the table. Her hand was actually itching to grab the highborn girl from the back of her head. She may be pretty…for now. Her thoughts were interrupted by Sansa speaking up

"You may go now." She said shooing her away, rolling her eyes. Ramsay held his breath waiting to see Myranda's reaction, as did it seem everyone else in the room was doing. Myranda placed the bottle of wine on the table a little too hard and stormed out of the room.

Ramsay giggled like a child and Sansa felt disgusted at her betrothed. "You northern woman are mighty fiery" He said, before gulping his wine down. "well ladies and gentlemen, I must part from you. I have an early hunt." Ramsay got up and kiss Sansa on the forehead before strolling out of the room.

Sansa saw her father do this same act to her mother time and time again. She always imagined being in that position one day and feeling the love that is shared between two, like she had seen with her parents. There was no love found here. These moments were for show, Sansa was a prop to the Boltons. She felt foolish for having dreams of a prince charming when she was younger. Fairy tales were just that, tales like she had heard from Old Nan.

Still in the back of her mind she couldn't help think that she had witnessed love, real love. Her parents were the exception. Maybe the only one though, she knew better than to expect even admiration from her husband to be. He wasn't a knight on a white horse coming to rescue her, he was the one she needed rescuing from.

The rest of the dinner was met with awkward silence. Walda Frey was scarfing down her food and it made Sansa's stomach turn. She was indeed no proper lady. She decided she had about enough of this debacle. "Lord Baelish, would you escort me to my chambers? I am absolutely exhausted." She asked sweetly smiling at the company at the table.

"It'd be my pleasure, Lady Stark" Petyr answered as they both rose from their seats.

Sansa curtseyed at Roose as he nodded, "Rest well, my lady. We shall start preparing for your wedding in the morning." He said as Walda just smiled at her. "I look forward to it." She said sweetly before her and Petyr exited the room.

"You are seriously leaving me here alone with them?!" Sansa asked when they were out of earshot. They had reached her room and Petyr touched her cheek.

"You are not alone, my dear child. The north is yours. The people of the north are yours. The Boltons are frightening it's true, but you are not a fragile little bird like they think. You are a Stark. A wolf. Be a wolf, Sansa. This boy is already taken with you, use that to your advantage."

She thought of Ramsay and the idea that he could truly be hers was unfathomable to her. "He already has a lover, you saw her at dinner." She answered leaning against her door.

"That servant girl is nothing. She is a placeholder, a placeholder that was useful to Ramsay… but now he has you." Petyr answered before kissing Sansa on the cheek. She opened the door to her room and turned back to him. She was about to say something when he interrupted, "I am leaving in the morning but, I will return as soon as I can. Be strong wolf, and remember…the north is yours." Sansa was tired and didn't feel like arguing. She simply nodded and closed the door. Finally, she was alone.

Ramsay made his way to Myranda's room. When he opened the door he saw her pacing the floor, obviously fuming. He walked in and sat in a chair by the window with his hands folded in his lap, looking up at her smiling. "Hello, My dear. Have you had a good evening?" he asked mockingly, gleeful for her answer.

Myranda looked at him with disgust in her eyes. "That wretched girl is to be your wife? I am supposed to be your wife!" she yelled at him stomping her foot for dramatic effect.

Ramsay laughed at her words. "I can't marry you, I'm a lord now you are just the kennel master's daughter. That match will not do for a great house like the Bolton's. You know that." He grabbed her by the waist and sat her on his lap.

"Do you find her pretty, Ramsay?" she asked as she stroked his hair. "Well, of course I do. I'm not blind Myranda." With his answer she grasped a ball of his hair in her hand and jerked his head back.

"You are mine. Not hers" the words came tumbling out of her mouth almost as fast as his hand reached her neck.

He stood her up and slammed her against the stone wall, all well keeping his grasp tight around her throat. "I am Ramsay Bolton, sole heir to The Dredfort and Winterfell. I don't belong to you, you're a common whore. I don't belong to the wolf bitch either, You belong to me. Everything belongs to me." He reprimanded her, letting go of his hold on her as she grabbed the collar of his shirt and planted a kiss deeply on his lips.

He lifted her up and threw her on the bed as he ripped off his shirt. "I still have plenty of time for you, Myranda. My wife doesn't change that." Ramsay tore off her clothes and they began fumbling around under the sheets. She would bite his neck and he would grab her thigh as he pummeled in and out of her, grunting with satisfaction. Although, while he was busy making sure Myranda stayed in line and was pleased enough to leave the situation alone for the time being his mind was wondering to his bride to be. He wondered if she would like it as rough as Myranda did. He never had been with a proper lady, he couldn't wait to find out how she tasted.

Myranda was somewhat satisfied with the response she received. The thought of Ramsay marrying this stupid Stark girl made her blood boil. She knew he would tire of her eventually though, they always bored him sooner or later, everyone except Myranda. She was smiling to herself when Ramsay rolled out of bed and her smile faded quickly. "Where are you going?" she sat up on her elbows looking annoyed at the man she saw standing before her.

Ramsay ignored her question and just put on his pants. He didn't feel the need to keep Myranda's company all night. He still had a stirring in the pit of his stomach that Myranda didn't fill. He was going to the dungeons. He answered her without even turning around before he walked out the door. "I feel like flaying something."


	4. Author's note

I have the next chapter complete it will ne up tomorrow, i am working on the following chapter which will be the wedding!

This is my first ever attempt at this, so thanks for reading and let me know if you have any suggestions:)

I loved Ramsay as a character and thought they could have taken him so many different ways. Im struggling finding tha e balace between crazy as shit ramsay and a character that can have some sort of redemption


	5. An aching heart and worried mind

Sansa woke the next morning with knots in her stomach. Petyr was leaving. Leaving her here with the Boltons. She finally got out of bed when a knock came at the door, "come in" she said cheerfully, but her demeanor changed as soon as she saw the girl enter. It was Myranda. "What do you want?" she asked bluntly as she got out of bed and pulled out a dress to wear.

"I'm here to help you get ready to see your father off" Myranda smirked at her.

"My father's dead. That is not my father." She pulled on her dress as Myranda stood at the doorway. "Well, get on with it then. Help me lace it up." She said annoyed at the girl's very presence.

Myranda chose to ignore the fact that Sansa was obviously aggravated by having her there. "Are you excited about the wedding Lady Stark?" she asked sounding sweet.

"Of course I am. Ramsay has been wonderful to me, I can't wait to be his wife." I can play this game too, darling Sansa thought to herself.

Myranda tensed up, but didn't miss a beat. "Ramsay is a great warrior, any woman would be so lucky. I just hope he doesn't get bored with you…like the others."

This statement made Sansa turn around. "Others?" she asked quietly. Maybe Myranda was better at this after all.

"Well…" Myranda pondered as Sansa sat down to put on her shoes. "Clarissa was a beauty, but she talked far too much. Ramsay grew tired of that rather quickly" she continued as she grabbed the brush and started on Sansa's hair, "Mary, she ended up pregnant and that became boring obviously. Then there was Tansy. She had gorgeous golden hair, the friendliest girl I did ever meet. Ramsay let me accompany him on that hunt." She said smiling far too much.

"Hunt?" Sansa questioned, but didn't turn to look at the girl. Myranda was pleased she questioned her.

"Have you ever seen a body after the dogs have been at it? Not so pretty anymore…" She trailed off as she braided Sansa's red locks.

"And how long have you loved him?" Sansa asked, finally turning to look at the girl.

Myranda wasn't expecting a question so brazen and didn't answer. "Did you think he would marry you and I came along and ruined it all? Is that it? He will never marry you. If it wasn't me it would be someone else. Someone with a name that matters." Sansa spoke harshly at the girl, looking her straight in the eye. "I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell. This is my home, and you can not frighten me."

Myranda knew her place and didn't dare contradict Sansa's words. She was a highborn girl and Myranda was the kennel master's daughter. You can have your time. For now at least. She thought, daring not to speak it out loud. "Do you need anything else?" She asked instead.

Sansa shook her head, "No, go" she waved her away and stood at the mirror. She heard the door creek open and thought Myranda was making her way back in, when she turned around to shoo her away she realized it was Ramsay entering, not his mistress.

"Does knocking not occur to you, Lord Bolton?" she asked as she fixed her braid in the mirror, that stupid girl made me look like a duck.

"Sansa, you look beautiful." He had a habit of ignoring her questions she realized. "It's time to send Lord Baelish off, shall we?" he asked extending his arm for her to take.

"Do me a favor, Ramsay" she spoke as she smiled at him. She looped her arm in his and they headed out the door. "Anything, my dear.." he answered as she looked at him. "Make sure your whore stays away from me." Sansa spoke bluntly.

She is a wolf, Ramsay thought pleased with his bride to be for standing up for herself. "I have never heard a lady speak quite like that." He said, amused.

"I would imagine you haven't been around many ladies, my lord." Sansa smirked at him.

Ramsay laughed at her retort. "You are fiery, like that hair on your head. I have come to prefer red heads, I believe you are the very reason why." He still hadn't given her what she wanted. He would play nice, as nice as could be possibly expected from the Bolton bastard, but he did not answer to a woman. Ever.

They came upon Roose, Walda, and Petyr in the courtyard. Petyr was readying his horse for his journey to the eyrie. He turned to Sansa "Sweet girl, you look well rested." He said kissing her forehead. "I will be back in 3 months time." He said as he leaped upon his horse. Sansa looked around the courtyard to see all the northerners surrounding them, she noticed Myranda among them.

"I suppose I'll be a married woman by then" She said with a smile taking Ramsay's hand in hers. Ramsay grinned and squeezed his wife's hand while not taking his eyes off Myranda. This will make tonight rather interesting. He thought, pleased with the way things were going for him.

As Petyr rode through the gates and out of Winterfell, Sansa dropped her betrothed's hand. She knew Petyr said she wasn't alone here, but that's all she felt. No one spoke for a moment, then the hustle and bustle of life came back to the people and they went on with their day. Myranda stormed off almost in a literal puff of smoke, Ramsay took notice of this, but thought best to deal with her later.

"Ramsay, meet me in the dining hall, we have matters to discuss. But first, escort your bride to her room. The hand maidens are readying her dress for tomorrow." Roose spoke to Ramsay with authority. Sansa realized by the look on Ramsay's face he was pleased that his father was including him in his plans, whatever plans that may be.

But wait did he say…. "Tomorrow?!" Sansa realized her words sounded harsh and cleared her throat to begin again, "My lord, we are to wed tomorrow?" She asked praying for an answer other than the one she knew was coming. The Gods have never been kind to her, she didn't expect them to change their ways now.

"Isn't that marvelous, my little wolf" Ramsay smiled at her as Roose just nodded and walked off. "I look forward to seeing just how much of a wolf you truly are tomorrow night." His words burned down to the pit of her stomach. Sansa didn't say anything, just looked around.

She pondered sprinting for the castle gates, she knew better than to think she'd actually make it out though. Maybe, they will grant me a quick death instead…but she knew that wasn't going to happen either. She was a Stark and they needed her. Ramsay grabbed her wrist and started making his way to her chambers. "Need I remind you, I hate repeating myself" he said through gritted teeth.

"Ow!" she exclaimed freeing herself from her grasp, "I am so very pleased to marry you tomorrow, my handsome Lord husband to be." She spoke rubbing her wrist, speaking sarcastically. "Does that please you, my lord?" she asked as they reached her room and he spun her around to look at him before opening the door.

"It pleases me much, my lady" he said and kissed her softly as the door opened. The three hand maidens looked on as he began nibbling on her lip. This time, she kissed him back. He pushed her against the wall and kissed her deeply once more. She started to kiss him back again, at first just to play the game and not get on his bad side again for the day, but something in her stirred and as much as she would never admit it out loud, she was enjoying his touch. His left hand wandered her body as his right cupped her face. She had never been kissed like this before and she wouldn't mind it happening again.

Just then, her thoughts and the moment between the two of them was interrupted by a hand maiden speaking out. Myranda. "We must finish the dress my lord, perhaps you can save some excitement for the wedding night?" she asked as Ramsay and Sansa looked in the room. Sansa realized they had an audience for the first time, she suspected Ramsay knew all along and who was part of that audience.

"Well, aren't you just everywhere." Sansa sneered at Myranda as she entered the room. Ramsay ignored the two woman and instead decided this was a good place to leave them.

"I look forward to seeing what you wonderful ladies create for my bride tomorrow. Almost as much as I look forward to ridding her of it." He said as he nodded and made his exit. Myranda stood next to another young girl and the elderly woman Sansa came upon the night before. The north remembers. The words rung in her head.

The two women tended to the bride's dress. Making sure it fit her perfectly. Myranda just toyed around the room looking very out of place. The dress was beautiful, Sansa would have been happy to wear it, if the circumstances were different. It was white with gold trimmings and little jewels sewn into the chest. They had also made her a luxurious fur to wear over it, protecting her from the harsh winter. Taking her eyes away from the dress she gave her attention to Myranda. "Why in the name of the gods are you here?" she asked point blank. The two other hand maidens looked at each other uncomfortably.

"My lady, I have gotten you a wedding present." Myranda spoke up looking at Sansa, daring her to further the conversation. Sansa took the bait. "and what would that be?" Sansa said as she stepped out of the dress and back into what she previously had worn.

Myranda smiled. "It's a gift that will remind you that you are home, my lady. I'll go fetch it." She said as she exited the room. The other hand maidens curtseyed and the older woman touched Sansa's arm. "You have friends in the north, if you need help find me in the broken tower." She whispered before leaving her alone.

Sansa began brushing her hair as she heard a knock on the door. "You may enter." She said turning around, a moment later she wished she hadn't.

In front of her was a sickly looking man, dirty and smelling of dog, even from across the room the odor was foul. He was shaking uncontrollably like he may faint at any moment. Horror struck Sansa's face as she realized who stood before her

"Theon?" she asked in shock. What had Ramsay done to him?

"Reek! Reek! My n-na-name is Reek!" he shouted as tears began rolling down his face. "What are you doing here? How are you still standing as Bran and Rickon lay beneath the ground- because of you!" Sansa was shouting loudly and gained attention from those outside her room.

"pl-ple-please Sansa, you mustn't yell, he'll pun-punish me!" This made Sansa see red "You honestly think I care what he does to you? I don't have my broth-" She was cut off by Ramsay strolling in the room.

"So, I see you two have met." His words were as cold as ice as he closed the door.

Sansa was frozen in shock at the two men who stood before her. Theon was cowering in the corner, shaking like a leaf upon the godswood. Ramsay had a wicked grin on his face that Sansa noticed appearing far too often. He strode over to her, kissing her cheek before he spoke.

"This is not Theon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands, He is now Reek. A new man…." He paused as he looked upon his pet proud of what he had accomplished with him. "Well, a new person anyway." He pulled a dagger out of a holster and swung it around his fingers. Toying with the two others in the room as well as the blade in his hand.

"What did you do to him?!" Sansa asked, shocked and disgusted. She studied the boy in the corner of her chambers, very much fearful of her soon to be husband. She had noticed Ramsay was no one to cross, but she hadn't really witnessed his evil, not until this moment.

"My love," Ramsay smiled at her guiding her to sit down. "I punished him. I punished him for you." He made this statement as if it was the most obvious thing he could say. Still playing with his dagger. "I assure you, he is not the man that harmed your kin, not anymore. Be it your wish, I will end him now. I know the pain he caused your family, we are one now and your pain is my pain my lady. Shall I slit his throat? Flay him till his heart gives out?" Ramsay made these statements so casually, Sansa couldn't believe what she was hearing.

She glanced over at Theon, he didn't look much like Theon anymore. Not the boy she had grown up with, the best friend to her eldest brother. The one who took two of her brothers from her, robbed them of their home and then their life. The hatred she felt for him began to bubble over as she contemplated her fiancé's words. She thought of the justice her brothers deserved, but looking at this broken man before her, she couldn't bring herself to give in to what may be the right thing to do.

After what seemed like a lifetime to Theon, he heard her speak the word so quietly, it was almost inaudible. "No." Sansa started crying, thinking about her younger siblings, this wouldn't give them back to her, it would be another demon, chasing her throughout her dreams. She had far too many already to add this act to her conscious.

"Very well." Ramsay spoke as he shrugged, "My lovely Bride is merciful, isn't she Reek?" he turned paying mind to his servant for the first time. When Reek stay coward, not responding Ramsay grew angry rather quickly. He threw the dagger at Reek, it missed his head by just an inch, if that. Sansa figured this was on purpose to prove a point. She was right.

"Reek." Ramsay spoke sternly "I asked you a question of Sansa, do not ignore me. She grew up with you and she granted you your life. What do you have to say to her?" He spoke softer than he started the sentence, and motioned for Reek to get up and come to them.

Reek lifted his body slowly, still shaking as he did so. He walked to the couple sitting on the other side of the room "I am for-fore-forever greatful, my la-lady." He said looking at the ground.

This wasn't enough for Ramsay. "Reek, you are speaking to the future Lady Bolton. Show her the respect my family commands of you and apologize for what you did."

"I am so-so-sorry, Sansa." He spoke quietly, still looking at his bare feet. Scared and disfigured from Ramsay's methods of torture he had ensued.

"Look her in the eye, Reek!" Ramsay bellowed. "Tell her why you are sorry."

"I am sorry for mur-murdering your brothers, betraying Rob…" Theon spoke as he looked at the girl he knew practically all his life. Tears came cascading down his face and Sansa was sure she was to be ill at any moment.

Ramsay clapped his hands together, as if this encounter was a joyful conclusion. This broke the silence and steadied the tensions rising in the room, if only for a moment. "Very good, very, very good." He smiled at his pet. "Reek, retire to your chambers. In the morning I will grant you a bath. Sansa needs someone to give her away, it should be you. I won't make her endure your…stench. It will be a wonderful day, yes?" He spoke, turning his attention to Sansa as Theon didn't waste a moment exiting the room.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked Ramsay point blank. Sansa was as white as a ghost, looking as if she had just saw one.

Ramsay smiled at his bride, "Reek isn't harmful. Not anymore, my love." He didn't give her the answer she was looking for, but he gave her something else. "As for Myranda, this wasn't her place. She will be dealt with, My lady. I assure you."

Hearing him speak her name made Sansa's blood boil. This girl got pleasure out of making Sansa miserable. She felt she already had enough people in the world to do that. "And what is her place, Ramsay?" She asked bluntly, almost daringly.

This made Ramsay smile. He realized he had been doing a lot of that in the short time Sansa had joined him at Winterfell. She was starting to get comfortable enough around him to test him. He liked it. No one dared cross him, she didn't worry about the repercussions though, at least not in the moment.

"Her place is as a hand maiden, the kennel if need be…" he spoke of her nonchalantly, as if he hardly knew the girl at all.

"And in your bed?" Sansa asked looking into his eyes, she felt like ice was starting back at her.

The wolf does have a bite. Ramsay was pleased. "If I warrant it, sure." He shrugged as he walked to retrieve his knife that still lay in the wall. "Does she make you jealous Sansa? I assure you, I'll be bedding my wife. That won't be an issue. Myranda be damned."

Sansa rolled her eyes at the bastard boy from the Dredfort. "I am Sansa Stark. I'm not jealous of a girl who smells of dog." She scoffed. "She is more than welcome to you, Ramsay. Let her lay with you, let her bare your bastard children," she paused trying to gage his reaction to her words. She noticed him tense at the word she spoke before she continued, "You need my name, my claim. I need her to leave me the hell alone."

Ramsay was quiet as he pondered her words. She was more clever than she let on. He did need her, but she needed him too. Even if she didn't realize it. She was a woman, the North wouldn't back a woman. Her last husband wasn't a northerner and they wouldn't back him either. She wanted Winterfell, he was the way she got it. He didn't speak these thoughts out loud, though. Instead he opened the door. He had another brazen woman he had to deal with.

"I'll see you tomorrow, My lady. You'll be a sight I am sure of it." He was about to exit when her words stopped him.

"Ramsay, I want to leave this room." She spoke, not looking at him, instead looking out at the commotion that was Winterfell through her window.

"And….what of it?" He looked puzzled by her words.

"Will I be granted to do so?" she asked point blank.

"Sansa, wonder off wherever your bloody heart desires." He said waving his hand, "Just don't try and leave Winterfell." With that, he walked out of the room and Sansa smiled for the first time.

She didn't need to get out of Winterfell, she just needed to get to the broken tower.


	6. Take me away

Sansa waited a few moments before she made her way out of the room. She knew she had to make a move fast if she was going to get out of this sham of a marriage. Witnessing the shell of a man that once was Theon Greyjoy made it crystal clear that she couldn't take part in marrying this monster. Ramsay tore apart Theon limb for limb, she didn't want to find out what was in store for her.

Sansa made her way to the broken tower, thinking of Bran as she did. He was such a spirited boy, fearless and carefree. As much as her mother scolded him for climbing, he wouldn't have fallen. It made her wonder what really happened that day, and what Bran would be like now if he wasn't gone.

As she began climbing the steps she heard footsteps behind her, fearing the worst she spun around. It wasn't Ramsay though. She sighed with relief, Theon.

"Sansa, wha-what are you doing here?" He looked completely petrified of her answer. She debated lying to him, but looking into his eyes she thought he could do no harm. He doesn't have to endure anymore, he has paid for his actions against her family. She could help him, if he would help her. She took a leap of faith.

"The elder servant. She's a northerner. A real northerner. She said she'd help me. She'll help you too Theon." She pleaded with him

"Reek! I am Reek!" He shouted at her. "She can't help you. He'll punish you both. He'll punish me. Le-le-let me escort you back my la-lady. This is a bad idea. You can't escape master."

Hearing him call Ramsay master made Sansa sick to her stomach. "Listen to me. You are Theon. Theon Greyjoy. I have known you my whole life. You can get away from this terror, we both can." She said grabbing his face. His hair was matted and his face was so dirty his skin seemed a different color.

"Reek!" He pulled away from her and coward down, rocking back and forth just repeating himself. "Reek….Reek…I am Reek."

Just then she saw light come through and a shadow appear in the doorway. It was Myranda. "Well, well" she smiled at the pair, "I heard a commotion, didn't expect this though." She crossed her arms and looked up at Sansa as she leaned against the wall. "Lady Stark, may I escort you back to your room?"

Sansa pushed past her and headed out the door. "I'll take myself, thank you."

Myranda turned her attention to the coward in the corner. "What is this all about Reek?" She asked as she leaned down to be at the same level as him. She sounded concerned and would have seemed sincere, if Theon didn't know her.

Theon started crying as he avoided eye contact with the girl prodding him for information. "I told her, I told Lady Sa-San-Sansa she had to stay." He said though gasps of breath.

Myranda lifted his chin to look at her. She smiled at the broken boy, in the corner of the broken tower. How fitting. She thought to herself before standing up and lending her hand to Reek. He reluctantly took it and stood. "Let's go see Ramsay. I'm sure he'll be pleased with you for saving his bride from a horrible fate. She would have surly died, then all hope would be lost. You're a good boy Reek."

Myranda was beaming from ear to ear thinking of how Ramsay would punish Sansa. That bitch has no idea what's coming. She led Reek to the kennels where she knew Ramsay was tending to his beasts.

They came upon him as he was locking the cages and getting ready to head out. He took one look at the broad smile across Myranda's lips and the sheer terror in Reek's eyes and intrigue sparked him. "What have we here?" he crossed his arms waiting for whatever information was about to come his way.

"Go on, Reek." Myranda urged him. "Tell him what you did. Tell him how you stopped Sansa from leaving." Myranda was proud of herself in this moment. When she first stumbled upon the two of them in the tower she debated letting her leave. What fun would that be, though? It would be a much sweeter victory if Sansa had to deal with Ramsay's wrath.

"Well, I don't have all fucking day, Reek." He was growing inpatient waiting to hear what just transpired from a creature who could barely form a sentence.

"The old la-la- the servant. The old one…" Reek tried to spit the words out.

"What of her?" Ramsay pulled out his blade and toyed with it, like he did so many times before he decided how he would use it on Reek. Seeing this, Reek began shaking. This bore Ramsay and he wanted to hurry this escapade. "I'll tell you what Reek, you have 10 seconds, if you can't spit out whatever the fuck you are attempting to say I'm going to flay one of your fingers. Maybe the right thumb…I haven't hit that one yet."

This made Reek speak up rather quickly, "Sansa was going to leave. The servant was going to he-he-help-" this time Ramsay cut him off as he twirled his blade and deposited it back to his holster.

"Ok, ok. I get it." He said holding up his hand to tell Reek he had heard enough. "Thank you Reek. As a reward for your loyalty, you may sleep in the dining hall. Maybe if you keep this up I'll find other arrangements."

"Yes, master. Th-thank y-y-y-you." Reek spoke as he bowed and left the kennels. Ramsay turned to Myranda who was still looking like she was floating on a cloud.

"Find this old wench, I'm going to show her what happens to those who try to take what's mine." He said hardly looking at Myranda. Her smile slowly faded. "Bring her to the courtyard. Let this be a warning to all who try to cross me." He stormed out of the kennels and Myranda looked defeated.

He hardly acknowledged her. She expected him to be so hot and bothered he would take her right there in the kennels, but he was preoccupied with dealing with the situation. She ran along to find the old woman, a smile reappearing, at least I'll be able to cut someone. Her flaying skills were improving and impressing Ramsay always made her feel better.

Sansa heard a knock on the door and a young girl appeared in her room before she even spoke a word. At least it's not Ramsay. Sansa thought before speaking to the timid servant. "Yes?" she questioned. She had returned to her room after her failed attempt to find the woman willing to help her and decided to rest. Sleep actually came easy to her, although her sleep was littered with nightmares. She had dreamt that she was running in the woods, hearing screams all around her.

"Lord Ramsay has requested you to see him in the courtyard." The girl spoke, looking horrified. She had hardly made it in the room and delivered the message before she had curtseyed and left again.

Sansa rose from the bed and dressed before checking her appearance in the mirror. She brushed her hair, taking her time braiding and pinning it. She knew Myranda would have told Ramsay what she witnessed by now. Sansa had no doubt she was about to be punished, how was the question that made her stomach turn. She had come accustom to Joffery's punishments over her time in King's Landing, but she knew Ramsay was on a whole other level.

She finally found the courage to leave her room and go find her soon to be husband. Walking through the castle she noticed everyone looking petrified and no one making any kind of eye contact. She made it outside to the courtyard and realized she wished she would have dressed warmer. The cold air stung her cheeks and sent a shiver through her body, she tried to convince herself that it was from the weather anyway, and not from what she was about to encounter.

Ramsay was standing in the middle of the courtyard alone, it was strange no one else had been around to Sansa and she braced herself for what was to come. "Lord Bolton, you called for me?" she smiled at him before her eyes were drawn to the body swaying above them. It was the elderly servant. Her body looked like it wasn't even human anymore, the skin was gone and her face looked daunting. It was the most grotesque scene Sansa had ever witnessed and she gasped at the sight.

"Yes, my lovely Bride." Ramsay spoke way too jolly for the situation at hand. "Do you recognize her? I heard she was planning on smuggling you out of Winterfell. That wouldn't do though. Why would you want to leave? Especially so close to our impending wedding day." He rested his hand on her shoulder as he spoke and Sansa noticed the dried blood on him.

She tried to speak, but no words came out. Instead, Ramsay continued on.

"Anyhow, she was definitely a tough old broad. As soon as the skin starts to leave the body, everyone starts talking. Not her though…" he spoke shaking his head, almost giggling. "No, her heart gave out before any words did. A true northern lady. Fierce as ever. I almost admire her, if she wasn't trying to cause harm to me." He turned Sansa to look at him now. "This is nothing to me. I can do this all fucking day and still sleep as sound as a baby at night. Do you understand?"

Sansa had tears flowing down her face now and she finally got out a nod, avoiding looking at Ramsay directly.

"If I have to kill every damn person in this bloody castle to make you understand your place I will, Sansa." He grabbed her face with both hands so she was forced to look at him. "You are mine. You'll be my wife and bare me children. If you do your duty I will find you useful…." He let his words drift between them for a moment then dropped his hands. "You need me to find you useful, Sansa."

This stung Sansa's ego. She could almost taste her freedom and now it seemed to turn to ashes in her mouth. "May I go now?" Those were the only words she could muster. She turned away before he even answered her.

"I'll send supper to your room, my love." He called out to her. "Tomorrow is a big day, you need your rest."

She didn't turn to look back at him, instead scurried back to her chambers. Looks like I'll be a married lady tomorrow after all…


	7. In a sea of people

Sansa woke the next morning to a knock at the door, she truly never had any peace. "Enter" She spoke up as she lifted herself out of the bed to find a simple dress to throw on.

Theon entered the room. "My lady, Lord Bolton called for you. I'm to take you to the dining hall. You-you-you're to break fast with the Boltons. It's a big day, My l-l-lady." Theon shook as he spoke, still standing at the door.

"Well, aren't I a lucky thing. The true traitor of the north, here to escort me to my betrothed." She said motioning for him to turn around as she dressed. She began combing her hair and continued on. "If you wanted to stay here with your master, you very well could have left me be. Betraying Robb and butchering Bran and Rickon wasn't enough. You hate my family so much you had to make sure I was fed to the beasts as well?" She stood in front of him now, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

"I saved you, Sa-sansa." He spoke timidly. "You can't escape him. He won't ever let you go." He looked meekly at the girl staring back at him. She was a beauty, even broken as she was. The fire in her eyes was as apparent as the ice in her veins. She had grown quite a lot in their time apart. Theon felt the grief that lay over him when he thought of his part in her pain. He truly believed he saved her from Ramsay's torture though. Ramsay was a great hunter, possibly the best Theon had ever witnessed. If Sansa had made it out of the gates, she wouldn't have made it much farther.

He stumbled to find words to say to the stark beauty. Instead he motioned for her to take his arm.

Sansa blew right past him and out the door. "Don't touch me. Don't ever touch me."

She made her way to the dining hall when Theon stopped her. He put his hand on her shoulder and she grimaced at his touch. "Get your hands off me!" she commanded and he swept his hand away as quickly as he brought it there.

"I am to take you to the feasting hall. You are to dine with all of Winterfell, my lady." Theon spoke softly. "It shows….morale…" he struggled to find the right word to use. "The joining of your houses…Stark and Bol-"

Sansa interrupted him "Shush." She waved her hand away and made her way to the great hall. The last time she was there she was when Joffery and the rest of the Royal family joined them before leaving for King's Landing. Before everything went horribly wrong.

Sansa enter the hall and took note of the commotion all around her. Everyone was buzzing, speaking of the wedding that was to be held that night. Her wedding. She made her way up to the high table to take her seat next to Ramsay, Roose, and Walda. The room grew hushed as she strode past the people of Winterfell. They all rose from their seats as she made her way to hers.

She sat next to Ramsay and he planted a kiss upon her cheek. "Welcome, my lady." He spoke sweetly almost as if he were sincere. Sansa just about laughed out loud at this idea.

Roose rose from his seat and summoned everyone to take theirs. "Tonight, by the gods wood, we join the Starks and the Boltons in a joyous marriage. I am pleased to bring the north back together. To make her whole again." He knew how to command a room. Everyone looked up at the leader of the north and raised their glasses. He picked up his own goblet and made another announcement. "It brings me great pleasure to announce another bout of wonderful news.."

This statement made Ramsay turn his attention to his father for the first time since his speech began. By the look in his eyes, Sansa could tell he hadn't a clue what was going to come out of the elder Bolton's mouth.

"My wife Walda is expecting!" He tried to sound excited, but his voice was as monotone as ever.

Sansa glanced at Ramsay who had his fists balled up he was about to jump from his seat when Sansa laid her hand on top of his own. "We are so very happy for you." She smiled at Walda and ushered Ramsay to make a similar gesture.

Ramsay paused for a moment, then a smiled appeared across his lips "I can't wait to meet my baby brother." He rose his glass and let out a "Hear, hear!" and the rest of the group followed suit.

The rest of the meal was shared in silence at the head table, the people below them were buzzing with conversation and didn't seem concerned with the Lords and Ladies in front of them.

Sansa finished her meal and spoke up "I'm off to rest… before the wedding tonight." She rose from her chair and curtseyed at the Boltons.

Ramsay stood as well, "I'll join you, my love." He smiled and offered his hand. She sighed, trying her best not to look disappointed.

"Thank you, my lord." She placed her hand in his and they walked out of the hall. She expected him to drop her hand, along with the act as soon as they were out of sight. To her surprise, he didn't.

They walked down the hall, Ramsay let her lead. He was lost in thought and quiet for the first time since she had met the bastard boy. He noticed they were headed outside and eventually questioned Sansa.

"I thought I was escorting you to your chambers, attempting to leave your dear husband to be again?" He questioned her, but didn't stop her from continuing on to her destination.

"No one else will lose their life because of me. I won't leave Ramsay." She spoke softly, obviously still feeling defeated.

"That's good news Sansa." He still had his hand in hers. He repositioned his hand though, and now their fingers were intertwined. "So, where are we headed, then?"

"To the gods wood." She said matter of factly. He was surprised by this. She decided to clue him in. "I have so many memories of my father here…" she said as they reached the weirwood tree next to the lake. She let go of his hand and sat. He stayed standing behind her.

She decided to continue on opening up to Ramsay, even though she wasn't sure why. "He use to come to pray to the gods here. I found him in this very spot so often I can almost feel him here." A tear rolled down her cheek as she remembered her father.

She would give anything to have him back with her. He never would have let any of the horrible things she endured happen. She would have been safe, they all would have been safe.

She looked back at Ramsay, who for the first time didn't mock her or make her uneasy. "I wanted to come here, one last time to remember what it felt like… tonight I have a feeling I won't be viewing it the same anymore."

She didn't sound sad as she spoke to him, she just seemed to be stating facts. Ramsay looked upon his bride and actually felt sympathy for her. He wouldn't dare let her know, but he had father issues of his own. He decided not to taint her moment here.

"Sansa," he spoke to her as she looked back at the tree, touching the face on the bark. "Have you ever…been in love?" Even he was taken back by his question. He felt a burning in his chest though and at that moment he had to know the answer.

Sansa pondered his question to her, wondering where in the seven hells it came from. Before she answered she got up and looked straight at him. "Someone once told me not to love anyone but my own children." She spoke as she began walking away. "I don't have any children Ramsay." She finished off her sentence and strolled alone to the castle.

After a few paces she looked back and noticed Ramsay was now sitting under the tree. She made her way to her room and did her best not to think about him the remainder of the day.


	8. Numb

Three hand maidens had just finished adorning Sansa into her wedding attire. The dress was even more beautiful than she remembered. The lace that traced up her arm was blood red, it had lovely blue jewels sewn into the neckline, which was lower than it should be for being in the north.

Sansa looked in the mirror for the first time and just stared at herself. Her hair laid above her head, braided and resembling a crown. Her attention was brought to one of the young hand maidens who broke the silence. "You look extravagant, my lady." She smiled sweetly at Sansa.

"I wish my mother was here." Sansa spoke quietly, to no one in particular. She always imagined her wedding day. She thought her mother would be there to help her into her dress, and Arya there to sneak her wine to calm her nerves. She could almost see her father there, preparing to walk her to the gods wood. Smiling at her, telling her how proud she made him. He wasn't there though. None of them were. She wasn't marrying a valiant knight, or noble lord either. She was marrying a monster.

Just then her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. A moment later, Theon entered. "It's time, my lady." He spoke simply looking down at his shoes.

She held her head up high and made her way to meet him at the door, He put his arm out for her to take it.

"I told you not to touch me. I don't want you to guide me down the aisle. Even if you are bathed for once." She looked at him with pure disgust

"Please my lady, I'm to escort you…he will su-surly punish me." His pleas went unanswered as she strolled past him.

"I should have let him kill you, just as you did Bran and Rickon." She said coldly as she continued on her way. The battered man trailing behind her.

They reached the edge of the God Wood and she paused for a moment. She felt herself getting choked up, but swallowed her tears. She was determined not to let Ramsay see her emotions.

She began her walk with Theon next to her. The aisle was littered with candles and she thought of how beautiful it looked, but how broken it felt. She didn't dare look up until she reached the end.

Roose stood tall in front of her and Ramsay was just to his left. She glanced at the man she was moments away from wedding and thought he looked quite handsome. He was dressed much more extravagantly than she had seen him before, and she could tell he was uncomfortable in his attire.

The rest of the Lords of the north were in attendance along with their families. Sansa couldn't bare to look at any of them. Traitors. She thought bitterly before she heard Roose speak up.

"Who stands before the gods?" He spoke loudly as he looked past her at Theon.

"Sansa of house Stark. Eldest daughter to Lord Ed-Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn." It stung Sansa deep in her gut hearing Theon speak her parents names.

Roose didn't miss a beat, "And who gives her away?" He glance at Ramsay at that moment, wondering what name his disgusting pet would say.

"Th-Th-Theon" he finally spit out. "Of house Greyjoy. Her father's…her father's ward." He looked for approval from Ramsay, but Ramsay could have cared less at that moment, his eyes fixed on his bride. Myranda, who was in attendance took notice of this.

Ramsay was truly in awe of his bride. When his father informed him he was to wed, he very much assumed he would take a bride looking like his step mother, not this divine creature that stood before him. He tried to make eye contact with Sansa, but she was avoiding him to the best of her abilities. Just then he felt his father nudge him, breaking his thoughts.

"I asked, who is here to claim her?" he looked pointedly at his son and Ramsay smiled. "Ramsay, of house Bolton. Heir to the Dredfort and Winterfell." This time, Sansa looked at him.

She knew it was coming, in just a moment he would kiss her, sealing their fate as man and wife. She would be a Bolton. Roose asked her if she took this man and everyone was holding their breath as she hesitated to answer. She knew there was no other option though, and quietly agreed. "I take this man."

Ramsay removed the cloak she was wearing and covered her with his own. Then he lifted her chin and kissed her more gently than she thought was possible for the bastard. It was official. She was now his wife. A Bolton. She took his hand as they made their way to the great hall for the feast that was to come. Everyone cheered as they walked through the crowd and she let a silent tear fall. She had become a traitor just like everyone had always called her. She was a traitor to her family now.

The celebration was a lively one. The Northerners had been dealing with one upset after another, they relished in the glory of a wedding. Even if the match was a ridiculous one, it didn't phase them. They were fed and the dornish wine was flowing.

Sansa sat at the head table with Roose and Walda. Ramsay abandoned his seat to make his rounds. He was basking in the claim he just felt he solidified with this marriage. Ramsay smiled and laughed with his bannermen and the lords around the hall. Sansa almost admired how charismatic he was. He was evil, but the boy could sure pull out the charm.

Roose noticed the new bride eyeing her groom and decided to take this time to congratulate her. "He sure knows how to work a room, doesn't he?" he asked Sansa, not really looking for an answer. She nodded and politely smiled anyway.

"My boy… he is a troubled one it's true. Most say it's my fault. When you're brought into the world the way he was…well let's just say the gods don't approve." Sansa looked at the Lord who was in control of her home, but didn't press him to expand on what he was saying. He continued on, "Ramsay has the ability to be a great warrior, a decent man." He placed his hand on Sansa's shoulder and she resisted the urge to stab him with the knife that lay on the table.

"I'm sure Ramsay will be a wonderful husband, and I will do my duty and be a….willing wife." Usually lying came easy. She had learned to be political and say the right thing ages ago, today the words had trouble finding their way out. Roose could tell.

"Give it time, Sansa." He spoke finally removing his hand as Ramsay began to make his way to his bride. "You may not like him now, perhaps you will love him later."

Sansa didn't answer. Doubtful, very doubtful. She thought instead as Ramsay sat next to her, placing his hand on her leg stroking it gently. "I am very pleased you are my wife Sansa." He smiled at her almost too nicely. "Tonight, I find out if you really are a wolf. Perhaps your bite isn't as big as your bark." He squeezed her leg now "One day, all this will be ours. Does that please you, my dear?" He asked waving his hand in the air to motion the greatness that is Winterfell.

She didn't answer, instead she asked a question of her own. "What if Walda has a boy?" She was quiet enough so the words were heard only by her husband.

His smile quickly faded and his eyes grew dark. "Then ill have a baby brother." He spoke through gritted teeth, his grasp on her thigh become stronger.

Sansa didn't let his touch affect her, she continued to reach her point. "The baby will be Roose Bolton's trueborn son. His claim will be higher than a bastard who was legitimized by another bastard." She thought he may strike her for her words. Instead, his grip loosened and his smile appeared once again. "Then, my dear wife, you would have done all this… for nothing." His words stung.

Shit. He is right. Sansa attempted to look unconcerned, but she was never a very good liar. "Don't fret, love." Ramsay said as he kissed her. "I have no intention of giving up what is mine, and it is mine." He handed her the goblet full of wine she had yet to touch. "Drink up. We'll be heading to bed soon."

Sansa didn't speak, she downed the wine and asked for more.


	9. Beautifully broken

**Authors note:**

 **This was a hard chapter to write, I didn't want to make it like it was on the show but i didnt want it to seem like suddenly sansa was in love and all was right. I have lots of ideas where to gonfrom here, the next few chapters will have more Myranda and Theon along with Joffery learning about Sansa's wedding. If anyone has any ideas or suggestions I'd welcome them!**

Sansa entered their chambers, what was once her eldest brother's room now belonged to her and her husband. She had another husband. Although, this time she was sure she wouldn't be keeping maidenhead.

She looked around for a moment, noticing how beautiful the room looked. Candles were placed all over, giving the space a romantic feel. She touched the fur on the bed, it seemed luxurious for being of the north. Ramsay stayed at the door and studied his wife, leaning against the frame.

"Is it how you hoped it would be?" He asked her as he finally entered the room and shut the door behind him.

This time, she avoided his question. "Why did you refuse the bedding ceremony?" she asked as she sat at the edge of the bed.

He smiled and made his way next to her. "I don't like to share what is mine." He said shrugging his shoulders. "Would you prefer to go back to the feast and start again?" He placed his hand on her leg, tracing her thigh with his fingers as he asked.

Sansa just shook her head. "My father thought the ritual was obscene, to be honest I figured you would relish in the thought of making me go through with it." She said glancing down at his hand. She knew what was coming, she wanted to avoid it as long as possible.

Ramsay started taking off his shoes, and lost his shirt before he spoke again. "Your father was honorable, I have heard a great deal of him. That honor lost him his head though. I don't wish to be as honorable as the dear Eddard Stark."

Sansa tried to avoid looking at his bare chest. He was well built and she wondered how it would feel to run her hands over his toned torso. She quickly shook the thought out of her head, "Don't worry Ramsay, no one would ever compare the two of you. You're nothing like him." She got up and headed to the mirror, letting her hair down.

He laughed at her retort. Coming up behind her. She froze as he began unlacing her gown. "Did your parents love each other?" He asked as the dress fell to the floor. She was left in her shift, white and flowing just above her knees. It was almost see through and Ramsay looked at her hungrily, anticipating the view from the front.

Sansa didn't turn around though. The way he was so comfortable making her uncomfortable was astonishing to her. She wished she could be as collected as he seemed. "Why are you so interested in their marriage?" she questioned him as he spun her around.

He let his gaze wander all over her body before landing on her eyes, Gods she was gorgeous. She looked delicate and fierce all at once. He kept his hands on her arms, not making any moves yet. He knew she was nervous, wondering when his hands would move down her body. When he would officially make her a woman.

"Your parents are legends in the North. I always wondered if it were true what they said… Ned would defend his lady with his life, defeating anyone who's gaze lingered at his Tully beauty too long…and your mother, fire and ice. They say when he came home with your bastard half brother she lost part of herself, I always wondered if she still loved him after that." He moved to the bed and sat down, leaning on his elbows enjoying his view.

"I don't want to talk about my family." Sansa said simply as she poured herself some wine, looking to keep her hands busy, along with easing her nerves. "My parents are gone. Yes, they loved each other, they loved us…they're gone." She looked around the room feeling uneasy with Ramsay's eyes devouring her. She downed her goblet and placed it on the table, crossing her arms over her chest, hoping to feel less exposed. "I thought my wedding night would be…wonderful. I thought my husband would be honorable and I would know his love. No I didn't imagine this." She finally answered his first question.

"Take it off." His words startled her, catching her off guard. She froze and stumbled looking for words to make their way out. "I want to see you all, you're my wife now. Take it off." He repeated, he didn't speak harshly, but Sansa knew she was to do what he wanted.

Still, she felt herself struggling to make that first move. He had seen her nude before, for some reason she felt much more vulnerable this time. He felt her hesitating and decided it was time to intervene.

He moved to the girl before him and lifted her chin to look him in the eyes. "Sansa, you are my wife now." He spoke as he roughly pulled the shift from her body, ripping the seams and exposing her as it fell to her feet. He took her hands and helped her out of it, leading her to the bed.

"I know I'm not the honorable Ned Stark…" he spoke softly as he ran his hands over her breasts and down to her hips. He lifted her up and scooted her back so she was laying down. "You may hate me, you may hate what I'm about, this is what you have. I am your husband. Do what needs to be done…and I'll do the same…" His words trailed off as he began planting kisses on her neck and shoulder. She was tense to every movement he made.

He looked over her body as he laid next to her. He traced a scar she had that laid across her right hip. "How did you get this?" He asked, looking up to her face.

"Sir Marren Trant…" she spoke softly as she looked down at the mark she tried to forget about. "My brother was making great strides in the war, so Joffery decided I was to be punished. He never touched me, not in front of the court at least, Merren Trant did that for him…"

Ramsay was so hard to read Sansa couldn't tell what his next move would be and she found herself almost wishing to just get on with it. He ran his fingers through her hair and looked at her. "You don't need to worry about any of them anymore." He simply stated. "I'll kill them all." With that statement he kissed her deeply and pulled her on top of him, sitting her up, grasping her thighs in his hands. They felt like sandpaper touching her porcelain skin.

Sansa was unsure of what to do, but soon enough Ramsay moved his hands to her hips and was guiding her back and forth. She felt him stiffen under her weight as she rocked on top of him. Sansa looked at the man who laid under her. Her husband. The words still felt like a curse. Ramsay could tell she was not as intrigued with him as Myranda or any of the other girls he had bed in the past.

"Surly, you're enjoying yourself…a little my wolf...aren't you?" He asked as he flipped her under him and now they had changed positions. He lay above her his face just inches from hers. When she didn't answer, he grazed his teeth over her neck and gently nibbled on her flesh. He smiled to himself as he felt her reaction. The reaction she was hoping he didn't notice.

"Just get on with it, Ramsay." She let out a sigh. He pulled up from her and began undoing his pants guiding them off. Sansa closed her eyes, bracing for the inevitable.

"I enjoy the hunt, you know?" He spoke up still not touching her and she opened her eyes, feeling confused of what was happening. "Killing a man isn't as rewarding if he knows its coming…" He went on running his hands down her body, gently twirling his fingertips above her womanhood. "I feel the same way about you, Sansa." He smiled a wicked grin at his bride. "You'll enjoy this, and that will make you hate yourself."

Sansa didn't break his gaze as she argued his point. "Enjoy myself?!" she scoffed. "I will never enjoy my time with you. You're a monster, a bastard with a title from another bastard."

His eyes became dark and she knew she hit the sore spot. He didn't strike her like she imagined he would though. Instead his hands wandered down and started caressing her. "You truly are a wolf." He smiled as he felt the warmth of her body betraying her. "You're not a very good liar though."

With that, he positioned himself and entered her. Taking away the girl and creating the woman. He began gently as she squirmed from the pain she was receiving. The pain started to subside and a new feeling came over her.

Ramsay smiled as he looked down at her, she was fighting him with every movement. Her expressions told another story though, he could tell she was on the verge of giving in. "Look at me." He spoke harshly to her and she began to hold his gaze. He leaned down and started nibbling and sucking on her breast, exploring her flesh with his tongue.

Sansa bit her lip to keep herself quiet. She involuntarily grabbed onto his shoulders before she even realized what she was doing. He responded by pushing deeper into her and lifted himself up to look at his glowing bride. He pulled her up and she found herself on top of him as they both sat on the bed.

She gripped onto his back, digging her nails into his skin. She leaned onto his shoulder and let out a small gasp. That was all Ramsay needed to feel like he succeeded. He began bouncing her on top of him until he felt himself explode inside of his wife.

Sansa pushed herself off of him and fell back on the bed, trying to catch her breath. "That was… horrible." She spoke the words that even she didn't believe and Ramsay laughed at her as he looked down at the woman he felt he just created.

"I told you, you're a bad liar, Sansa." He got up, still fully nude and walked to pour himself some wine. Sansa cursed herself for the actions that led her to this moment. Her eyes drifted to his naked body. Seeing his entire body on display made her whole body tingle. She tried to shake off the feelings she had as she rolled over, covering herself with the furs. She heard him slip in bed next to her and prayed he wouldn't touch her.

He pulled himself close to her as he swung his arm across her hips. "It's okay, I won't tell." She could feel the smile he had plastered on his face, she didn't have to turn to face him as he spoke the words. She closed her eyes before the tears could escape and drifted off to sleep.


	10. Give an inch, take a mile

**this is a quick chapter, laying the ground work for the next round of chaos**

 **Any ideas or suggestions please leave a review :)**

Sansa was woken by a knock on the door the next morning, she was surprised to find Ramsay still beside her. She wasn't sure if she should answer the knock or ignore it. Would Ramsay become irate from interrupting his sleep?

She didn't have long to contemplate this thought, a louder knock came across the door again and Ramsay opened his eyes "Damn it, come in for fucks sake." He bellowed as he sat up in bed, the blanket barley covering his bottom half. Sansa sat up as the door opened, pulling the blanket to cover her exposed breasts.

Myranda entered the room, and now Sansa was the one wanting to curse. She rolled her eyes at the sight of Ramsay's lover. Ramsay, on the other hand looked downright cheery as he realized who was interrupting them.

"I'm to draw a bath for Lady Stark…" Myranda looked like she was about to claw Sansa's eyes out as she spoke of her intentions.

"Bolton. I'm Lady Bolton now, we're married. Don't you remember the ceremony…I saw you were in attendance." Sansa said as she looked straight into Myranda's eyes, daring the lowly kennel girl to challenge her.

Ramsay's eyes were wide as he watched the scene unfold. He couldn't be more pleased with what he was witnessing. Myranda looked at him for support, thinking he may put his wife in her place. Instead he decided to do the opposite.

"I think I'll join Lady Bolton in the bath, make sure the water is hot…you know how I like it." He said as he got out of bed completely nude and walked to the restroom, leaving the women to their own devices.

"Ramsay doesn't like to wait, I'm sure you know that to be true. Better get that bath ready for us." Sansa said as she rolled out of bed and walked over to the mirror. Brushing her hair, she looked at her body, covered in fresh scrapes and bruises from Ramsay's hands and mouth. She was unsure of how she felt about them. The night before was nothing like she imagined or ever dreamt of for her wedding night, but something deep inside her tingled as she reflected on the ways she received these new marks.

Myranda looked upon her as she dragged the tub in the room and began filling it. She finally spoke up. "You won't please him like I can. He was commanded to marry you, I'm the one he truly wants. You may have his name, for now. You'll never last as his wife though. I can't wait to join him on that hunt." Myranda smiled wickedly as she finished up her chore.

Sansa walked to the tub and lowered herself into the steaming water. She looked up at Myranda as she answered the girl's threats. "I wonder if he put a baby inside me last night. I wonder how long you'll last…Ramsay doesn't bode well with jealousy, you told me so yourself" Sansa paused as she smiled vindictively at Myranda. "And darling… it's written all over your face." Sansa laid her head back and closed her eyes. "I'm bored of you already, you may leave now." She said with a sigh.

Myranda was absolutely furious at Sansa's response. "I take orders from Ramsay. You are noth-" she was cut off by Ramsay entering back into the room.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked as he stepped into the bath, feeling the tension in the room between the two women.

"No, my lord." Myranda smiled sweetly at him. "I just offered to wash Lady St- Lady Bolton's hair." She said as Ramsay inched closer to his bride.

"I'll take care of that, Myranda." He said as he caressed Sansa's shoulder. "You may go now."

Myranda stood there, shocked at what was happening. Was Ramsay really choosing this rigid bitch over her? Her mind wandered to what could have happened between the two the night before and the thoughts and questions arising in her head made her sick to her stomach.

"My husband said you're free to go." Sansa looked up at Myranda. "Are you ignoring his orders?"

Myranda couldn't get any words to exit her lips, she was dumbfounded. She just curtseyed and left the room. Left her lover and his new prize.

As soon as the door shut Sansa pushed Ramsay off of her. "I can wash myself, thank you." She spoke harshly as Ramsay chuckled at her.

"And here I was thinking we were getting along splendidly." Ramsay spoke as he dipped his head in the water. "Do you want me all to yourself? Is that why you're so awful to Myranda?" The water was glistening off his chest and Sansa was having trouble keeping her eyes focused on her husband's face and not the rest of his body.

"Myranda can have you, I want nothing to do with you, I told you this already. You're just a bast-"Sansa practically spat the words at him before he cut her off, waving his hand in the air and looking bored of Sansa's comments.

"Yes, yes. I'm a bastard who was legitimized by another bastard… so you've said. Bastards can make something of themselves though, surly you agree. I mean your bastard brother clawed his way to Lord Commander of the Night's Watch." Ramsay paused and ran his hands through his hair before continuing on gaging Sansa's reaction, "You didn't know? Yes, Jon Snow is making quite a name for himself." Ramsay got out of the bath and started dressing.

Sansa was quiet as she rose from the water. Jon was Lord Commander? Did Littlefinger know this? Why wouldn't he bring her to her family, instead of to this horrid place?

Sansa couldn't help but hope that when Stannis came maybe he would help reunite her with Jon. She had never been pleasant to her brother, she was always quick to point out Jon was her half sibling. Now, Jon was the only family she had left. She missed him terribly. More than she ever thought she actually would.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ramsay throwing a shift at her. "Get dressed, we are to break fast with my father. And Sansa," he put his hands on her shoulders to make sure she heard his next sentence. "I am your husband now. Call me a bastard again and I'll rip out your tongue."

Sansa didn't answer him. She didn't have a sharp tongue comment to spit out at that moment. The wheels were turning in her brain and for the first time since the day of the broken tower, she felt she had an out. She needed to survive the Boltons. To survive Ramsay. To do that she had to stop fighting for the moment and fight for the long gain. She had to play the great game.


	11. Choosing with no choice

Sansa quickly got dressed and put herself together. Ramsay extended his arm and Sansa took it with a smile. Ramsay looked a little taken back at her expression, he knew she wasn't truly happy with him.

"Why are you putting on a show?" he asked as they made their way down the corridors of Winterfell.

"Whatever do you mean, my lord?" Sansa sounded as sweet as sugar as she questioned him.

Ramsay eyed his bride, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. "You're smiling as if you are smitten with me, Sansa. I very much doubt that is the case."

Sansa let out a little giggle before she answered him. "You're right, Ramsay…I'm not smitten with you, that's very true. The way I see it though, We're wed. You are my husband and at least I'm home. I don't want to be miserable, I've lived feeling like a prisoner since I left Winterfell. I may not be pleased to be your wife, I am pleased to be home. I'm choosing to be happy…as happy as I can be…" she answered him, not even knowing herself how truthful she was being. If she could pacify him long enough, she could be reunited with Jon. She could have what's left of her family.

"As happy as you can be…with a bastard?" he questioned her as they arrived to the dining hall. She turned to him and whispered in his ear. "You'll be the Lord of Winterfell one day, I'll be your lady…and my tongue will stay in my mouth…" Ramsay shivered as she ran her tongue on his ear. "like you said you're no longer a bastard."

Ramsay was pleased enough with her answer and was in better spirits as they entered and took their seats across from Roose and Walda.

"Ah! Here they are, the newlyweds. How was your night?" Roose bellowed at the couple looking copiously at his son, obviously worried about the response he would get from the bride. He was pleasantly surprised though.

"We had a wonderful night, Lord Bolton." Sansa answered with a smile. "I feel so lucky to have such a handsome, brave husband." She took Ramsay's hand in hers to really sell it.

Roose just nodded and tended to his plate. Sansa felt the awkward tension between everyone in the room, not sure what to do about it. Before she could react, Walda spoke up.

"Maester Wilken says the way I'm carrying, it looks like you'll have a brother Ramsay." She sounded so cheery, Ramsay practically choked on his sausage. "Brother?!" he questioned, his voice was painted with anger.

Roose paid close attention to his son, waiting for him to lose his temper, Sansa reacted rather quickly, and put the fire out before it even started.

"Congratulations Walda." She smiled warmly at the large woman who was oblivious to the apprehension in the room. "We can't wait to meet him, can't we, Ramsay?" She placed her hand on his leg and she physically felt his nerves calming to her touch.

"Yes, It will be a joyous day!" Ramsay mustered up the best enthusiasm he could as he looked down at Sansa's hand which was gently rubbing his leg. He didn't want her to move it, but once he answered she did, taking a sip out of her goblet and paying more attention to her plate then her company. That is, until Roose spoke up.

"A raven arrived from King's Landing today." This grabbed Sansa's attention. Ramsay took this opportunity to repay the favor Sansa did moments earlier and placed his hand on her leg. Sansa hadn't even noticed, she was too busy concentrating on what Roose was saying. "They know you have arrived here and the King has commanded that we send you to him. His mother is in the black cells, she has been charged with Queen Margery's death." He looked directly at Sansa as he spoke, possibly for the first time since she had arrived.

She heard his words, but couldn't force any of her own out. She felt everyone's eyes on her as she processed what she was being told. "Why does he want me back, to go back to Tyrion?" It would be a cold day in hell before she went back to King's Landing. She would kill herself before becoming a toy for Joffery again, she'd come too far. She was too close to freedom to go backwards.

Roose shook his head. "He has annulled your marriage to Tyrion. Obviously he hasn't received news of your real wedding yet…" Real. He emphasized the word to make it crystal clear that if the marriage hadn't been consummated yet, it damn sure better be as soon as they left the room.

"Well then what the bloody hells does he want with me?" this was the most unladylike the elder Bolton had heard Sansa speak and he was most certainly not accustomed to woman speaking to him like that.

Ramsay was silent until this moment. "He wants her as his bride, doesn't he?" He asked quietly as his father nodded in response. Ramsay was eerily calm and Sansa was in a panic.

"I'll die before I go back to that monster! I won't go back there!" Sansa was shaking as she spoke. Walda looked concerned for the young stark and Roose just looked uncomfortable with Sansa's reaction.

Ramsay was still calm with the ordeal, it made Sansa furious. "Do you not care? Am I that expandable to you? You married me las-"

Ramsay hushed her, "Sansa, calm the bloody hells down. You are my wife, you will give me an heir and you will be staying here. That inbred little cunt isn't a concern to me. Didn't I already tell you? He won't touch you again." Ramsay told her as he began stuffing his face, acting nonchalant about the whole ordeal.

Roose took a gentler approach to Sansa's worries. "Word will get to the King of your wedding to Ramsay, he won't have such an easy time protesting this marriage…as long as…" Roose let his words linger and the implication was well received.

"Anyway, this will start another war." He shifted his attention to his son now, "We can't afford another war, we already have Stannis knocking at our gates at any moment. We can't fight a war with every bloody king that is making his way for the iron throne."

Ramsay's calm, collected manner didn't shift with the mention of war. Sansa took notice of this. He really was a warrior, much different than Joffery who cowered behind his mother's skirt at the mere thought of a fight.

"Let me handle Stannis. Winter is coming, he doesn't have the men, or the horses, or the resources to battle us. Let me lead the charge against him. Let me honor you and prove I'm the heir you deserve, that you made the right choice when you legitimized me, father." Ramsay asked his father to let him prove himself and for the first time since she had met the Bolton bastard, Sansa took notice of how important his father was to him. She never had to question her parents love for her, and it made her mind wander to Jon. Was this how he felt growing up as an outsider? A pang of guilt flooded over her.

Roose contemplated this idea for a moment before he agreed. "It would have to happen quickly, I want Stannis dealt with before his seedy little nephew gets here. I have no doubt he will come for Sansa. We need to have our soldiers ready when the time comes."

Ramsay looked quite pleased that his father had trusted him with this task. "In three days time we will ride out and put an end to the old man. He wont expect us to come to him. I'm sure he thinks we plan to sit on our asses and let him bring the fight to us." Ramsay got up and kissed Sansa's hand. "I'll be preparing my men, try not to miss me too much while I'm busy, my love." With that he strode out the door and Sansa was left with the man who murdered her family and the daughter of the man who orchestrated the whole event. She sighed, feeling pathetic realizing she would rather be in Ramsay's company.

Walda smiled at the Stark beauty and did her best to bond with her. "I have been making outfits for the baby, I'm afraid I'm not very skilled…would you like to join me today? Pass the time while the men prepare for…their duties?" She was sweet enough, but Sansa had no desire to deal with a Frey. Still, looking over at Walda's husband and his glances at her as they both waited for her response she knew she had to play nice.

"That sounds lovely, perhaps we can have some tea and I can show you some stiches I found easy to accomplish when I first started." Sansa smiled at her. "My sister was horrendous at the task and if I could help her, I'm sure we can get your stitching wonderful."

Walda was very pleased with Sansa's response. She clapped her hands together as she rose from her chair ushering Sansa to follow suit. "Wonderful! Come, come." She waved her up out of her chair, linking their arms together.

"Oh. Now, you mean now." Sansa tried to sound as polite as possible, it didn't matter though. Neither Walda or Roose was listening to her as the two women walked out of the hall and to Lord Bolton's chambers. Sansa felt nauseous as she came across her parent's room.

She hesitated a moment before stepping in. If she hadn't spent so much time there as a child, she wouldn't have recognized it. The Bolton's banner hung on the wall and Sansa thought of how pretentious it seemed in this room. There wasn't a shred of evidence that the chambers once belonged to Ned and Catelyn. Sansa wondered what happened to all their belongings.

She took a seat at the table by the window across from Walda as a hand maiden entered with tea for the two ladies. It was Myranda.

"Good afternoon, Lady Bolton." Myranda curtseyed at Walda as she poured her some tea, ignoring Sansa. She finally poured her a cup, not even glancing in the girl's direction. Sansa took this opportunity to anger the woman who chose to make her miserable any chance she got.

"I do hope Ramsay hurries with this battle." Sansa spoke to Walda, but kept her eyes on Myranda. "We have only had one night together, and it was quite a night." She smiled mischievously, pulling a page out of Margery's playbook. "Ramsay is quite seductive, I hope we can share more time before he leaves…" Sansa sipped her tea as Myranda tried to busy herself to stick around. "Oh, ick!" Sansa spat out the tea. "Miss, this Tea is tepid. Brew a fresh pot." She ordered Myranda without glancing at her.

Walda took a sip and seemed to disagree. "It tastes okay to me.." she spoke softly, not wanting to step on anyone's toes.

Myranda looked pleased, but only for a moment. Sansa shook her head. "It's tepid. We are surrounded by cold, our tea needs to be hot. Take it away." Sansa shooed Myranda out the door and Sansa whispered to Walda as she left.

"She is my husband's lover, did you know? I didn't want her around as we spoke…woman to woman." Sansa smiled at her fat mother by law.

Walda looked sorrowful at Sansa. "I had heard that Ramsay has taken a mistress or two in his day." She placed her hand on Sansa, attempting to comfort her. "That one seems to have an icy heart, the stories I've heard of her…" Walda looked away "It must be strange, being in a new place, married off to some man who you've never met. I know I felt strange when I arrived at Winterfell, it's gods awful cold here!"

Sansa stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "This is my home. I'm Sansa Stark of Winterfell." She looked at Walda, wondering how far along the woman was with her child. "The people are much colder than the weather."

Walda didn't answer, Myranda walked back in with a new batch of tea placing it on the table. "A fresh brew." She looked at Sansa, but Sansa's attention was drawn to the courtyard. She watched as Ramsay spared with one of his men, knocking him to the ground with ease. Another came up behind him and Ramsay swiftly knocked him back as well.

As she watched her husband take down man after man she wandered what would happen if Stannis defeated him. Would Roose surrender? Would Stannis easily blow through him as well?

She couldn't bring herself to think about what would happen if Ramsay won.


	12. Under lock & key

Sansa laid in bed staring at the ceiling. Every noise she heard made her jump, thinking Ramsay was entering the room. It was well past midnight and although finally having the room to herself should have put her at ease and made sleep come quickly, she found herself tossing and turning. Her mind was racing with all the information she received at breakfast. Joffery may have been an arrogant twat, but he was a twat with a large army. A twat with a crown on top his head. If he couldn't wed her, he'd make sure she was dead. If he could find a way to wed her…that may be worse.

She got out of bed and sat at the window sill. Thinking about Joffery and everything going on with Stannis headed their way, sleep wasn't coming to her tonight. She heard the door creek and was surprised when Theon walked through the entryway.

She hadn't seen him since her wedding night, he looked different now. Clearly, he had been back to the kennels. He smelt of wet dog and looked just as mangy.

Theon was shaking slightly as he spoke to Sansa. "Lady San-sansa, your Lord husband sent me to check up on you." He still wouldn't look at Sansa, staring at his feet. "He said to let you know he'll be up for bed shortly. He's finishing up…some business." Theon was about to walk out the door when Sansa stopped him.

"Business… is that what he calls his whore? Business?" Sansa asked looking at the timid thing shaking like a leaf. Theon tried to spit some words out, shaking his head was the best he could do.

"Relax Theon." Sansa said drawing her attention back to the grounds of Winterfell outside her window. "I hope he spends all his time with her. I hope he forgets all about me…"

"He won't forget, my lady. Master has grown attached to…ha-having you." Theon answered and Sansa noticed he didn't correct her. Reek. Maybe there was a little bit of Greyjoy left in him after all.

He exited the room before she could say anything else and Sansa suddenly felt peaceful, even for just a moment. Sometimes, while she was alone she imagined she was back at Winterfell as a child. She imagined all that had taken place had never actually happened. She thought of her family and what they would be doing now, if everything hadn't gone so horribly wrong.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door opening again. This time, it was Ramsay. "Hello, my darling." He said making his way over to her. He kissed the top of her head and she smelt the booze lingering on his breath.

"How's Myranda?" Sansa smirked as she looked at her husband. He poured himself another glass and motioned to ask if she wanted some. She nodded and took the goblet out of his hand sipping on it slowly.

"Myranda is fine, I'm sure she would be happy to hear your concern for her." He answered. "I noticed you watching me today. While you had tea with that fat wench Walda… you were watching me." He smiled at her as he finished off his drink and made his way to the bed. He took off his shirt as he watched Sansa watching him. "You were looking at me like you are now, my lady." He smirked removing his shoes and pants. Now they were both left in their undergarments.

"There is no way you saw my expressions from all the way down there." Sansa retaliated and realized she played the wrong move when a broad smile appeared on his face. She quickly gulped down her glass.

"Ah, so you were watching me." Ramsay got comfortable and leaned back upon the headboard. "Why don't you join me, Sansa."

Sansa ignored his request and instead asked him of his plans. "I was watching you, you are quite the warrior…but can you truly defeat Stannis?"

Ramsay laughed at the girl, feeling this was the most foolish question she could ask. "Defeating Stannis won't be an issue, my dear. I'm sure you'd like it if it went the other way, I'm afraid to tell you…it won't. You're stuck with me. Now...like I said, come to bed." He sounded sterner this time around, tapping the spot next to him. Still Sansa wasn't giving in.

"Even if you do win, then what? Then Walda has the baby and he becomes the true heir… Joffery comes for me… You'll be without a wife or a home. Maybe your father will grant you the Dredfort… ugh, I think death sounds just as lovely." Sansa rolled her eyes and poured herself more wine, trying to loosen up the knots in her stomach. Ramsay sat up in bed, becoming annoyed with the ordeal.

"Is it your plan to piss me right the fuck off, Sansa?" He lashed out and made his way over to the table, pouring a drink and taking a seat. "I thought I'd bed my wife but now I think I'll go on a night hunt." Sansa noticed he didn't specify what he was hunting.

"No.." Sansa shook her head and took a seat beside him and laid her hand on top of his. "That's what I mean, Yes, I was watching you. Yes, you're a great warrior. You're fearless and strong." Ramsay didn't know how to take this compliment, he didn't have to think long about that though, she moved her hands away from him and continued on as she rose from her seat, strolling back to the window. "You're also hot headed and didn't grow up proper. Killing on a whim, mutilating men for pleasure… no one is going to take you seriously. Not when your father has another heir on the way." Sansa made her way to the bed, hoping to get the nerve to make her move.

Ramsay contemplated her words carefully before he spoke again. "My father isn't going to make some baby with his heffer of a wife the heir. I'm the heir." He sounded pompous as He spoke to her. He didn't make his way to the bed like Sansa thought he may. Instead he poured another glass.

"Don't be foolish Ramsay, the Lords of the north don't take you seriously. They fear you. You can be a great warrior with fear, it doesn't make a great ruler though. Your father won't make you the warden of the north, they won't let him." Sansa got up and stood in front of Ramsay, putting her hands on his shoulders and letting them wander down to his chest. "Let me help you. Let me be a part of this marriage. I'm sick of everyone dictating what I do, how I do it… You need me, not just for my name. I grew up in Winterfell, I learned about life in King's Landing though." She guided him to the bed, and he let her wrapping his arms around her waist as she stood before him. Her shift was riding up and down her legs as Ramsay guided it with his hands. He started playing with the edge of the cloth as he spoke up.

"How do you think you can help me?" He said before placing a playful peck on her lips. She kissed him back and smiled, maybe manipulating him wouldn't be as hard as she imagined.

"Well, first off…" she planted another kiss on him. Making the first move for once. "Walda can't have this baby."

Ramsay was surprised Sansa spoke this way. "You really think this kid is that big of a threat to me?"

"I think it's a big threat to us. Winterfell is my home. Your father took it from my family the day he murdered my brother." She paused for a moment trying to gauge his reaction to her mentioning his father, he didn't let on his feelings though.

"I won't allow a Frey to have my home. A Stark must always be in Winterfell, that Stark is me now. I may have your name but I'm a Stark until the day I perish. I owe this to my family. You want to be a Lord. A great Lord.. you can't with Walda grasping what should be yours. What could be ours…" She stepped back for a moment pulling her shift from her body and exposing herself to her husband before coming closer to him and placing her hands on his legs. "Now Ramsay, how about you do your duty. Give Winterfell a true heir."

"Sansa…" Ramsay whispered as he pulled her on top of him, then just as quickly he flipped her over so he was now on top of her, kissing her neck as she gripped the bedsheets. She let out a little moan as he dug his nails in her back and bit her bottom lip, with just enough force to make her whimper. He kissed her intensely, she closed her eyes trying to let loose and get into the moment. "Are you using me to get what you want? Trying to seduce me to get rid of the miscreants running around here for you?" Ramsay asked as Sansa noticed he didn't look very bothered by the idea. He was still running his hands down her body, gripping her hips then bringing his hands to her hair. He smiled wickedly down at her and she pulled herself up to meet her lips with his.

Sansa kissed him softly before running her hands in his hair, cupping her hand on his cheek before she spoke again. "Do you care, Ramsay? Do you care if I'm using you?" She let her hands slide down his body, feeling every inch of him before they landed on his underwear. She pulled them down and his cock sprang to attention. At least she knew what she was doing was working.

She got flustered all of the sudden, wondering what she was suppose to do next. She hesitated, feeling foolish, like a child with no experience. She'd gotten this far but actually making a move on Ramsay wasn't as easy as she thought.

Ramsay laughed out loud and Sansa was thrown off just a little bit more. He loved making her uncomfortable, even when she tried to get the upper hand, this was not her strong suit…yet. He liked that she tried to seduce him, and he also liked that she was unsure of herself. He enjoyed that he got to toy with her, for now. He knew eventually she would come into her own and he was happy to help her gain some sexual awareness. He figured all the better for him in the end.

"Use me all you want, my lady…" He whispered in her ear as he entered her. Sansa let out a small gasp as she felt him inside of her. She was still cursing herself for letting the power she felt she was gaining go.

The thought was fleeting as she felt him stroke in and out of her. He pulled her legs in the air and laid them on his shoulders, gaining speed with every movement, Sansa felt like her body was taken over by someone else. She felt as if she was about to explode and anyone within the halls would know it. She tried to stifle the moans escaping her lips but her efforts were futile.

Ramsay was so close to finishing when the door swung open, he wouldn't have stopped. To his despair though, at the sound of the door opening Sansa pulled away from him and tried to cover herself.

"What the fuck is going on." Ramsay's voice was filled with frustration, he shut his mouth quickly when he saw his father enter their chambers though.

"This is quite the imposition, I'm sure." Roose spoke up, devouring the girl with his glances. Sansa was covering what she could from his prying eyes, as Ramsay threw on his underwear and questioned his father. "I assume you have an explanation for the late night intrusion?" He walked to the table and finished off the last of the wine.

"Put down the damn cup, Ramsay. It's time." Roose spoke sternly. "I'm happy to see you two have taken this marriage…seriously, but I have gotten word that Stannis is just beyond the gates."

Sansa looked at the two men standing before her and tried to process all that was happening. Stannis was almost here? Roose muttered to Ramsay that he better move along and Ramsay was already half way in his battle gear before his father was out the door.

He finished dressing quickly and grabbed his bow that laid by the window. He walked over to Sansa who's head was in a whirlwind of thoughts and kissed her deeply. She returned the kiss, thinking this may be the last time she needed to do it.

"I will return shortly, try to stay out of trouble while I'm away. I will have guards posted by our room…for your safety." He spoke and he was out the door.

Sansa put her shift back on and walked to the window. There was soldiers and banner men all gathered throughout the grounds, making their way to the gates.

She sat at the window as she heard voices from outside the door. The guards for her protection she assumed. Although she knew they were really guarding her from attempting to leave. She glanced down and saw Ramsay jumping on a horse, and Myranda a few paces behind him. She was trying to get his attention but he paid her no mind.

The girl is so dense, Sansa thought. He was preparing for battle, seeing his mistress was low on his list of worries at the moment. She saw Myranda turn and look up at her room as Ramsay headed through the gates leading the charge.

Myranda made a bee line for the castle and Sansa realized she was headed to her room. "This should be interesting." She muttered under her breath as she went to pour herself another glass of wine, the pitcher was empty though. She sighed and made her way to the door.

The two guards who stood there were big and brooding. The scowls that adorned their faces made them seem older than they were. Sansa smiled at the men and once returned the favor with a half hearted grin. "My lady, you need to stay in your room." He spoke softly, but with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"You're stuck babysitting me and you'd rather be at the battle, am I correct?" She glanced at the two men, one was stern in his expression and didn't even look her way.

The one that shared a smile answered. "Lord Bolton has ordered us to make sure you stay safe… and in your chambers." He said glancing at the girl.

"Well Lord Bolton's whore is on her way up here." Sansa spoke up and both guards looked at her this time. "So, if one of you could be so kind to fetch some more wine…" she said as she held out the empty pitcher. "No handmaidens are going to be out and about right now, and I surly can't take on either one of you.. I'll stay put." She said waiting for one of them to take it from her.

Neither did, as Myranda strode up the hallway and came upon the three.

"Well, too late I guess…" Sansa said as she walked back into her room, leaving the door open. Myranda entered quickly behind her.

"If you're here to kill me, Ramsay will be less than pleased, and those two will have your head instead." She said pointing to the door that Myranda just closed.

"I'm not here to harm you, My lady." Myranda spoke sweetly, too sweetly.

Sansa sat at the table and motioned for Myranda to join her. She did as she glanced over at the bed, sheets and furs all discombobulated. It had been obvious there was more than sleeping going on there. "What can I do for you, Myranda?" Sansa spoke up looking bored of the intrusion already.

"I have a proposal for you." She spoke as she looked upon the Stark girl waiting for her to further the conversation.

Sansa was definitely intrigued, wondering what she could possibly want to proposition her with. She urged her to continue as she leaned back in her seat and waited for what was sure to be some unhinged idea that came out of Myranda's mouth.

Myranda scooted her chair closer and spoke quietly, obviously trying to keep the words between just the two of them and not with the two guards outside. "I can get you out of here." She smiled roguishly at Sansa.

Sansa was about to interrupt but Myranda seemed to read her mind and finished her thoughts. "I know, I ruined your attempt the last time. I see now that was foolish. I don't want you here, you don't want to be here… let's help each other out Lady Stark."

Sansa pondered the girls words. She knew she couldn't really trust the girl, but she didn't quite know her true motive. "Why would you help me? You despise me, why would you help me?" Sansa was actually curious. She knew she couldn't take her up on her offer. Even if she was sincere and it wasn't a trap, Sansa doubted it would work.

"Like I said," Myranda sounded annoyed as she spoke. "I wish I would have let you go when you first tried… Honestly, I thought Ramsay would punish you more-"

"More?! He killed Someone!" Sansa blurted out and Myranda shushed her.

"Oh, don't be all high and mighty. Yes, some old broad died. You got off with nothing though…" Myranda snapped. "Anyway, you don't want Ramsay. I do. If you're gone I'm back in his bed…" she glanced back at the disheveled bed looking annoyed. She looked back at Sansa and finished her proposition. "I could kill you, but that's messy." She said nonchalantly as if it were a normal thing to say. "Ramsay will be angry with me if it's my fault his trophy of the north was murdered and his temper is hard to gauge sometimes…I'd rather not test it, Lady Stark."

Sansa has heard enough. She wanted out, she knew better than to take this way out though. She wasn't sure if it was a trick Ramsay was in on, or if Myranda was acting alone. Either way, it wasn't her way to freedom. She got up and walked to the door, opening it up. "Thank you for visiting, Myranda." She said as the two men looked into the room. "It's Lady Bolton by the way." She said as Myranda walked by her and she leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You might as well kill me. That's the only way you're ridding your beloved Ramsay of me." She said it mostly just to push her buttons, but if Myranda did make the attempt maybe Ramsay would finally get rid of her.

Myranda glared at Sansa before she walked out the door. "I guess the battle lines are drawn, my lady." She said as she walked down the hallway.


	13. A flightless bird

Ramsay had been gone three nights and Sansa had been kept in her room for the most part. He had allowed her to visit Walda in the afternoon for a bit, but that was as far as the guards would allow her to travel per his orders.

She would go and have tea with the Frey lady in the afternoon and usually end up fixing the stitching Walda had done the day before. It felt like the biggest bore of her life. She tried to persuade her guards to accompany her around the grounds, but they were loyal to Ramsay and apparently Ramsay had ordered her to stay put.

Myranda had been serving them their tea and Sansa pretended not to notice the snide remarks she made at her. It hadn't been bothering her, really. Myranda would say something about Ramsay hunting or make a comment about bedding him. Walda was too afraid of the girl to reprimand her and Sansa was too preoccupied trying to figure out if Ramsay would return or if Stannis would grant her freedom.

She was in her own world, making polite banter when necessary, but otherwise quiet. Her ears perked up when Roose entered the room and told Myranda to leave.

"Ladies" he bowed as he greeted the pair of women. Sansa nodded but didn't look up from her tea. "Ramsay has defeated Stannis. I just received word. They will be back within the day." Roose got straight to the point, he was a no nonsense man. Sansa glanced up at this time to see Roose looking directly at her.

She realized her silence was going noticed by the two others in the room and she broke out her smile. "How wonderful, I will be so glad to have my husband's company again." She said as she put down her cup.

"Yes, I'm sure you are feeling over the moon, Sansa." Roose said dryly obviously seeing through her façade. "You should be happy, you can welcome my son back into your bed and work on giving Winterfell an heir. Another heir." He said looking pointedly at his very pregnant wife.

Sansa was about to speak up, but she was interrupted by Walda. "Speaking of the heir…" she said placing her hands on her forever growing stomach. "I'm not feeling well, if you would excuse me, I'd like to rest now."

"Of course, I have been feeling slightly under the weather as well. Perhaps I will head to my chambers to rest as well." Sansa rose from her seat and curtseyed before heading out the door. She was met by her two guards of course.

"Hello boys." She greeted the men. She had learned a little about them in the few days they had spent trailing her. The one who never cracked a smile was named Deikan. He towered over his companion, Rocco. Rocco would occasionally talk with Sansa, usually late at night when she couldn't sleep. She found out the two of them had grown up with Ramsay. Most of the banner men called them 'the bastard boys' and most of the men didn't care for them. From what she gathered, they were almost as ruthless as Ramsay. Sansa tried her luck one more time. "I want to go to the Gods Wood." She said as they walked through the hallways, hoping her stern manner would get them to cave.

Deiken shook his head and Sansa sighed and stopped, placing her hand on Rocco's forearm. "Stannis is dead for Gods sake. No one is going to come for me, I am going insane inside these walls." She pleaded at Rocco, she figured he was her better bet. "I'll fling myself from my window." Sansa threatened.

"Don't be so damn dramatic, girl" Rocco said as they stood outside her room. He looked over at his partner, "The battle is over, it would be nice to be out of this damn castle for a bit."

Deiken looked down the hall then shrugged his shoulders, "To the Gods Wood." He said as Sansa smiled, she couldn't wait to feel the sun on her face, feel the crisp air of winter. She practically skipped down the hallway.

Deiken and Rocco stood back as Sansa made her way to sit at the truck of the weirwood tree by the lake. She touched the face on the bark and smiled to herself. She felt close to her family here, but honestly she just liked to be alone without fearing of someone barging in on her.

"My lord." She heard her guards speak as she turned around and saw Ramsay approaching. They bowed and he shoo'd them away.

"Leave me with my wife." He said as he sat beside her. "Have you missed me?" He was much scruffier than usual. His beard was grown out a bit more than Sansa expected for it only being a few days and there was dirt on just about every inch of him, it got lost among the splatters of matted blood that she noticed on his clothes and hands.

"So, you are a warrior. I was worried you would fall in battle." She said flatly. "Where are the rest of your men?" She said looking back at the grounds noticing he must have come back alone.

Ramsay smiled at her, "I'm sure you prayed for my return, I told you I wouldn't be away long." He looked around them at the woods. "It looks much different in the daylight, doesn't it? Not as magical as it did our wedding night." He smiled at her but she didn't return the favor. "I returned soon as the battle was over, my men will be back within nightfall and we shall celebrate with a feast. I'll have to be washed up of course, would you like to join me?"

Sansa glanced at him and smiled sweetly, her words were laced with venom though. "Myranda has been pining for you. Perhaps you would prefer her company?" She said as he stood up and lent out his hand for her to do the same. She reluctantly took it and stood.

He kept his grasp loose around her fingers , but didn't let go. "I will see her in due time, I much rather share my time with my wife, though." Sansa knew what that meant. She thought she may get some time alone while he played with his whore, she wasn't that lucky though. She wandered what his motives were. If he wanted to torment her, or was there something else?

"Very well." Sansa said as she let go of Ramsay's hand and led the way to their chambers. "You are in desperate need of a bath. You're starting to smell like Reek."

She kept a few paces ahead of him during their walk and when she entered their room she saw a hand maiden drawing a bath already. She was just thankful it wasn't Myranda. By the time Ramsay entered the room she had decided how she wanted to play her hand. "Leave us," she said to the young girl who had just finished her duties. "I need some time alone with my Husband, make sure no one disturbs us." Ramsay eyed her curiously and began to undress once the girl had closed the door.

He dipped his body into the water and began scrubbing off the blood and the muck. Sansa sat at the edge of the bed and looked at her husband. She noticed a few fresh wounds on his torso. "Have you had the Maester check those out?" She said as she pointed to the cuts and he shrugged.

"Those are nothing, my lady. A few scrapes and bruises. I'm much more interested in hearing how your time at Winterfell has been since I have been gone." He said as he stood and stepped out of the tub.

"Well, let's see…" she said as she watched her husband get dressed. "I wasn't allowed out of my room, unless I was going to see your fat mother by law , so it would be fair to say you haven't missed much. Except…" she trailed off and noticed her words caught Ramsay's attention.

"Except what?" He asked as he approached her and she gestured for him to sit with her. He waited patiently for a moment. That moment passed quickly and he urged her to continue. "Bloody hells, except what Sansa?" he spoke again turning her to face him.

She glanced down at his hands that gripped her arms and told him what was on her mind. "Your father joined us today, to tell us of your victory. He told me he expected an heir soon…" she trailed off and Ramsay cracked a smile as he let out a giggle.

"If you wanted me to bed you, you don't have to bring up my father Sansa." He said as he brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her harshly.

She pushed him away. "I wasn't finished! He said another heir. Another. As in, there's already one. The one that will take over Winterfell. The fucking Frey Walda will pop out any day now."

Ramsay was quiet for a moment then got up and walked to the window. "You truly want to give me an heir?" he questioned without looking at her.

Sansa was thankful he wasn't looking at her when she answered. She knew she had to lie to him and she knew she was a terrible liar. She hoped he wouldn't notice. "We need an heir. A Frey can't hold Winterfell, Ramsay. If I am to be your wife, I need to give Winterfell a true heir. A Bolton and a Stark." She wondered to herself how much she was lying. She had no intention of having a baby with the Bolton bastard, but she did need to ride it out until she could get away from him.

"Very well, let's not waste any time." He said as he made his way over to her and kissed her once more. She again, stopped his advances.

"An heir will do no good if Walda has a boy." She said pointedly. "He will take your title and our child will have no chance of ever inheriting my family's land." She waited quietly as Ramsay pondered her words. She got up and made her way to the window.

He came up behind her and placed his hands on her back. "I will take care of it." He simply said before he ripped her dress off of her. She turned around and raised her hand at him, he caught it mid air and shook his head.

"This is no way to greet your husband. I just fought for your life." He smiled and she huffed and began to walk away from him. Ramsay grabbed her wrist and drug her to the bed. He undid his pants and pulled her shift up. "Like I told you, I will handle it. Consider it done." He roughly climbed on top of her as she protested and he forced her arms down, above her head. "I will honor your wishes, you will honor mine." He said as he entered her.

Sansa closed her eyes as she waited for him to finish. He got off if her abruptly and started dressing again. "Maybe we just made that heir, my lady. I have some things to attend to, I'll see you at the feast." He said as he walked out the door.

Sansa crawled under the covers and began to cry. She felt disgusted and ashamed. Sansa drifter off to sleep, but was awoken some time later when she heard a knock on the door. She ordered them to wait until she cleaned herself up and became presentable.

She was surprised to see Theon on the other side of the doorway when she answered the knock. He had the same stoic look on his face as he usually did, but his eyes felt like they were piercing right through her.

"Sansa, I have some news…" He said as she let him enter and closed the door behind them. What could he possibly want?


	14. Til death

Sansa wasn't sure why he was there, but by his demeanor she knew nothing good was about to exit his mouth.

She tried to be patient as she waited for whatever he wanted to tell her. She could tell it was hard for him, he was shaking and looking all around. He jumped at the slightest sound, afraid of being found in Sansa's chambers without Ramsay's permission.

Sansa's patience grew thin and she reached out to touch Theon's arm, trying to ease his nerves. "It's okay Theon, what's going on? You can tell me." She urged him.

"There's been talk… about you and th-the guard. My-myran-myranda told Ramsay." Theon whispered barely auditable.

"Told him what?" Sansa questioned. She had a few conversations with Rocco, but nothing scandalous. He was the only person she had been around apart from Walda.

Theon got close to Sansa and whispered in her ear as if the room was crowded with others who were eavesdropping. "She told him you two were lo-lo-lovers, Sansa." His breath was hot and smelt foul as the words touched her ear. "She told him he was he-helping you leave."

Sansa felt a burning in the pit of her stomach. This news was nonsense, but Ramsay's reaction would not be a pleasant one. She knew that for sure. "Where is Ramsay now?" Her thoughts wandered to the last person who Ramsay thought was going to take away his bride. The north remembers. Sansa didn't want anyone else to be in danger for her. Rocco had been kind to her, but he was loyal to Ramsay and Ramsay alone.

Theon shook his head, not wanting to give Sansa the answer. "Theon, where is he?" she spoke harshly now, fearing time was against her.

"If he fi-finds out…" Theon began pacing. "I shouldn't have said anyt-anything…" He trailed off as Sansa grew more frustrated.

"I don't have time for your bullshit. You want to be Reek. FINE! Be Reek! You tell me what I need to know, or I'll ask Ramsay to take your life like he offered before."

Theon threw himself at Sansa's feet pleading for his life, she kicked him away and headed out the door. Theon was useless, she'd find her husband herself. She had a good idea where to start the search.

She made her way down to the dungeons, before she entered she could hear the screams. She ran to the small room where the sounds were coming from and came upon a horrific scene.

Myranda was sitting in the corner sharpening a blade, she didn't see Ramsay at first. The room was dimly lit with torches but as she entered she noticed him standing by a cross. The cross that adorned the Bolton sigil. Rocco was attached to it. His skin was peeled on his chest and he barely looked like the man she saw just hours ago. "Oh my gods." She breathlessly whispered to herself and gained notice from the others in the room.

"My love," Ramsay bellowed, "How glorious that you joined us!" he said as he stuck a knife into Rocco's thigh, causing him to scream out in pain.

Sansa ran to Ramsay and pulled at his arms, trying to get him away from Rocco. "Stop this! He didn't do anything, he doesn't deserve this!" She pleaded at her husband

"I left you in his protection and he abused that privilege." Ramsay said simply as he spun the blade around, twisting it before pulling it out.

"Rocco didn't touch me Ramsay." Sansa said as tears stung her eyes. "He was kind, but nothing went on. I've been faithful to you. He's been loyal to you as well. He's your friend, Ramsay." Sansa pleaded with him as Myranda rose from the chair, making her way over to the couple.

"She's lying to you, he promised her he'd get her away and then meet up with her once it was safe, I heard the wh-" Myranda spoke as she placed herself between Ramsay and Sansa.

Her words stopped when Sansa's hand came swiftly across her cheek. "You little whore!" She continued when the shock of the slap wore off. "Ramsay, let me take her tongue, she doesn't really need it." Myranda spoke as she had a dagger to Sansa's cheek.

Ramsay quickly removed the dagger from Myranda's hand and struck her to the ground with his fist. "She is my wife, Myranda!" Ramsay's voice was booming. "You threaten her again and it will be the last time you do anything." Ramsay made sure his message was well received, and Sansa stood frozen next to all the commotion.

Myranda slowly rose and picked up a blade off the ground as she did. "She'll ruin you, Ramsay. She will make you weak." Myranda promised as she dove the knife into Rocco's heart, ending his life and the ongoing torture she was just taking part in. "Don't say I didn't warn you." She finished as she walked out the door.

Sansa slowly slid to the floor, she put her hands down to steady herself and realized the floor had blood splattered all over it. She wiped her hands on her simple dress, shaking as she did so.

"Well, that was unfortunate…" Ramsay spoke as he cleaned his blade. "I'll bring his body to the hounds. You ought to go get yourself cleaned up." He said calmly

Sansa stood and tried to catch her breath, she felt like someone was standing on her chest. "You killed your friend…" she said softly.

"Well love, that's not fair. Myranda killed him, I was just letting him know my stance on his closeness with what's mine." He said as he ushered her out the door, "Like I said, go get cleaned up, I'll be up soon my love."

Sansa didn't look back as she walked down the dimly lit hallway. She had seen many deaths in her time since leaving home, but seeing the man she was tied to torture on a whim, and the way Ramsay went about it made her sick to her stomach. She just made it outside when she couldn't hold it in anymore and the contents of her stomach ended up on the ground.

She stood up, wiping her mouth and wondering if the stress was getting to her. She never had a weak stomach before. She leaned against the wall of the castle and tried to remember the last time she bled…. "No. No, no, no…" she whispered quietly to herself as she rested her hands on her stomach.

I must just have a bug… She thought to herself unconvincingly.


End file.
